The Romeo and Lancelot Arrangement
by sa-mu-uu
Summary: A story of two stupid kids trying to figure themselves out in a world where nothing is confidential. Record label AU, ZoSan, Smut-heavy. Warnings inside.
1. Introduction

Things to note:

-All text messages, thoughts, lyrics, and chat messages (pretty much anything not spoken aloud normally) are represented in italics. Italics are also used every once in a great while for emphasis on certain words when there could be some miscommunication of meaning otherwise. It should be easy to tell the difference between these different uses, though.  
>-All lyrics used in this fic are made up and don't exist in actual song form, for better or worse :Y<br>-Given the subject matter, this fic naturally has a lot of scenes depicting sex, drugs, alcohol, serious violence, and some pretty heavy existential moments. (I'm assuming since you clicked on an M-Rated fic you're probably down with that, just giving a fair warning. I'll try to do my best to give warnings before chapters with the really heavy stuff).

A/N: I have the outline of this fic written already; I started with the ending, actually. This chapter is quite a bit longer than most chapters will be, hopefully it's not completely unbearable to get through. Have you ever read something so many times that you can't tell if minor changes you're making are helping or hurting the piece? That's where I am right now. :x Hope you like it, though.

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><p>Sanji groaned, rubbing his eyes a bit as he sunk into his chair. His laptop screen was getting blurrier by the minute, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. To say he felt like shit would be an understatement; every breath of the dry stagnant bedroom air burned his nose. He should've just opened the damn window, but he couldn't get his legs to respond long enough to pull him from his seat. Everything in him was begging him to stop, but he'd been working for six hours straight, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to finish that night.<p>

Stained pine bookcases loomed overhead, stuffed from top to bottom with records of artists both alive and long since deceased. Some were untouched, some were scratched and had their labels worn, but they were all indexed lovingly and treated as priceless treasures. Stacks of them spilled from the shelves, flooding onto his cold, wooden floor and over to the doorway following the path Sanji took to come and go. Part of him wanted to drop everything he was doing and just hop in bed and listen to them for a while, responsibilities be damned.

His bed, oh, what he wouldn't give to surrender to it's calling. He steeled himself, gripping the mouse tighter as he shoved the thoughts aside for what felt like the millionth time that evening. He let out a hefty sigh, the sound reverberating off the walls to reach no one but himself.

As if on cue, a message in the bottom right corner of his screen popped up, momentarily pulling his already befuddled attention away from tiny pixelated knobs and piano rolls. _"muto: Hey bro, shouldn't you be getting some sleep?"_

The blond took a minute to respond, eyes looming a bit too long on the clock module. Three in the morning, huh? Not the latest he'd ever stayed up on a weekday, but still far later than he'd intended on staying awake. He typed out a swift reply. _"bl: My show's tomorrow, man, you know I have to finish this now. OTL I'm tired as shit though, yeah."_

_"muto: Yeah, well you shouldn't go into that without any sleep. They'll eat you alive. At least take a nap okay?"_

_"bl: I'll rest when I'm dead."_

_"muto: Whatever nerd just don't come to me when it blows up in your face. Let the record show I tried to warn you."_

To his distress, another name popped up in the chat window. _"tari: Omg what are you doing up still?! Is everything okay?"_

He let out an exasperated groan, rubbing his face in a vain effort to revive the nerves under his skin. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? It was hard enough trying to finish without the distraction of friends; his damned self-control was waning by the second._ "bl: I thought you were asleep already? But yeah, everything thing is fine. You guys nag worse than my old man, shit."_

_"tari: I was just getting out of bed for some water and saw you were online, so… Get some sleep okay? Don't run yourself ragged lol. Good night guys~"_

Sanji smiled faintly and turned his attention back to his production software. 'Don't run yourself ragged', huh? Clearly it was too late for that. Though they did have a point, he could just finish in the morning…

No, there's no way. His old man was expecting him up in six hours to help open the damned restaurant, and then he'd have no free time until it was time to leave. He didn't have a choice; it was now, or not at all. So he pushed on, the same few measures of music repeating over and over and over in his ears for another sliver of eternity. As time continued to crawl by, his tired eyes could barely make out the words labeling the digital switches and sliders. But it was fine, he didn't need to read them; he knew them all by heart. He could do it blind if he had to.

As the sun began to illuminate the darkness beyond his bedroom window, something started to click. Maybe it was just the fatigue clouding his judgement, but he was finally beginning to feel legitimately content with his work, for once in his shitty life. Maybe it was just the subconscious desire to fucking stop already, but it was almost, just barely, acceptable... One more adjustment would do it. With a tinge of anticipation, he swallowed once, settled back into his chair and hit play.

Hell fucking yes. Perfect. He tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette with a victorious smile.

His vision had finally come to life, hadn't it? This was it, definitely. He spammed the 'save' icon a few dozen times more than necessary, then peeled his trusty headphones from his ears, rubbing the spent stick into the ashtray. With a long yawn, he opened up the chat window again. _"bl: I did it. ;) I'll be back to recap the show when it's over, alright? Won't be online until then, since I have to work. Night everyone."_

He didn't even bother shutting his laptop before he swung his legs out from under the desk, and jumped straight into bed. Both he and the old metal bed frame let out a violent groan in unison, every individual vertebra in his spine decompressing as he sunk into the blankets. His fists balled into the pillow under his head like it was a life preserver, squirming against the mattress in borderline rapture as his body readjusted to not having to hold itself upright. That shitty box mattress had never, _ever_ felt so good. Sleep overtook him before he even had a moment to appreciate the feeling; his mind barely registered the ambient city traffic noise of morning drifting up from the street below before he slipped into unconsciousness.

-oOo-

"You better be back before sunrise, brat."

"I will!" Sanji called, squirming his feet into his shoes with a steadying hand against the door frame. "If you're thinking I'm gonna miss work or something, quit worrying! I won't."

"You better not, since I'm already giving you the evening off."

"Yeah, yeah... Wish me luck, shitty old man."

"Luck's not a factor, eggplant. You either suck or you don't."

Maybe he was right about that. Sanji gave him a quick wave and bolted out the door into the darkness, leaving the restaurant in his dust.

Jogging down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, he could feel his bag bouncing against his back has he went. It dawned on him that it probably would have been a smarter idea to ask Franky to bring his laptop to the club for him, but he felt more secure having his equipment close to him; even if it was currently stabbing through the fabric of his bag into his shoulder blade at a horribly uncomfortable angle.

The blue-haired man and Robin, who'd been acquaintances of his old man for a while before befriending Sanji, had offered to give him a ride to the show, but he'd graciously declined. Sanji was partial to running; he did so whenever he had the chance to. He felt free, with the wind against his cheeks, brushing the long locks of hair back off of his face. It was the only time he really allowed himself the use of both eyes at once, if only because he couldn't really avoid it. It was nice, though, seeing the outside world rush past him in all it's full, depth-perceived glory. The only downside to it was the strange looks from passersby; almost definitely because they noticed his eyebrows. The weird curliness to them was hardly a common sight, he guessed, though thankfully most of the people who saw him frequently seemed to have grown used to it at some point. The way he felt as his legs carried him across the pavement was enough to outweigh the unwanted attention regardless.

Skidding around corners and crosswalks without much regard for traffic, he arrived at the entrance of the Sunny Go with a heavy breath and a chill in his lungs. "Ten minutes and twelve seconds." He checked his watch and smirked to himself; not a bad time, all things considered. With a grin he looked upward, taking in the sight in front of him. This was where his dream would begin; his first show on the way to greatness. He'd make it big, and then he could bring the world to his father's restaurant, just like he'd always wanted. It was a daunting task overall, but this first step would be simple. All he had to do was get on stage and pour out his life's work to a bunch of drunk college kids. Easy, right?

Adjusting his clothes back to his liking and giving a poor attempt to fix his hair, he sucked in a deep breath before approaching the bouncer at the front door. The man looked him once over, sharp black eyes shifting up and down Sanji's frame. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, apparently having thought something funny given the way his freckled cheeks scrunched a bit from the broadening of his stupid toothy smile. "Hey there. Got a name?"

"Uh, I'm probably under Blackleg. I'm set number three."

"Huh. Never seen you here before." Was that his way of asking for identification? Sanji waited a moment for the man to elaborate.

Silence. Well, shit. "...Hold on, I have my ID in my bag-"

"You're fine, newbie, just meant to extend a welcome. Head on inside and look for the kid with the pink hat, he'll get you straightened out," he nodded towards the door with a grin. "Break a leg! Or, uh, man that sounds really morbid when your name is-... you know what, how about 'good luck' instead?"

Sanji couldn't help but snort and crack a smile, his nerves settling for the first time in days. This guy was a huge dork, wasn't he? Maybe this wouldn't be so hard, after all. "Right, thanks." He didn't have much time to dwell on the older guy, though; the moment he entered the doors he felt a vibrating in his pocket.

_"Sorry, bro, we're going to be a little late! But we'll be there for your part for sure!"_ Sanji frowned a bit at the message. Luckily he hadn't left his bag with Franky, or he'd be in a world of trouble. Whatever, they'd show up when they showed up. No skin off his back.

So, a pink hat, huh? It didn't take him long to find the person in question; a boy in the aforementioned hat, who was a few solid inches shorter than Sanji with a tangled mess of brown hair and blue backpack was standing right by the door. "Uh, 'scuse me, I was told to find you-… um…?" Shit, that dorky security guy hadn't given him a name to work with.

"Oh, I'm Chopper! Who might you be?" His voice had a light and animated timbre that matched the bright smile on his face perfectly. If he'd been offended by Sanji's lack of manners, he sure didn't show it.

"Blackleg; set three, I think. But, please, call me Sanji." He grinned and offered a handshake, to which the teen gladly obliged.

"Nice to meet you Sanji, I'm really happy you made it! Welcome to the Sunny Go! Do you have all your equipment?"

"Yeah, I have everything I need. I'm ready to go whenever."

The boy seemed pretty relieved, settling back into a comfortable slouch with a relaxed sigh. "Great, that's good! Since it's your first time here I was a little worried. Is there anything you want to keep safe? I'd be happy to take your belongings to a private location."

"No thanks," Sanji shook his head, idly grasping the strap of the bag on his shoulder. "I packed pretty light. It's only my laptop and boards. And, well, I'm gonna need those pretty soon."

"Oh, okay then! I was told your set list was reviewed already, so I guess you're good to go..? When this set is done in about half an hour, just head up on stage and plug your equipment in. I'll be looking forward to hearing your work!" Chopper gave him one last cute, sunshiny grin before spinning on his heels and disappearing into the crowd to do whatever it was he did.

Sanji glanced at the clock on the wall; half past ten. So, he'd be on at eleven? Maybe he should have taken his time running there… Now what? It's not like he could grab a drink or three before his set; he'd be damned if he fucked up his first real gig over some shitty alcohol. And he certainly couldn't dance with that bag weighing him down, either.

With a light sigh through his nose, he wandered inside to the main room and hovered near the back of the crowd of bodies. The muffled sound of a building melody that he'd heard from the outside was attacking him at full force now, echoing off the walls straight into his ear drums. The second artist, he mused. Sweet mother of god, she was beautiful. And her voice was even more stunning than her looks, if that were even possible.

The name on the LCD under the table read "Nami"… the name was familiar, he'd definitely seen it online a few times before; either from members of his circle or from the dozens of blogs he followed, he wasn't sure. She was an upcoming trance artist if he recalled correctly, but he hadn't known she was local. This was what he was supposed to be following? How the fuck was he supposed to top her? He was so daunted over the prospect that he couldn't even manage to crack a dirty joke about it, low hanging fruit or not.

Her smooth, cultivated vocals were just as good live as they were recorded. Shit, she didn't even have to sing live if she didn't want to but chose to do so anyway. She could have just used samples like most people did; like he did. But apparently she was just that sure of herself. And rightfully so, given the evidence right in front of him.

He couldn't pull his eyes away; he had no idea watching someone push buttons could be so engaging. So this was the company Sanji was among? Clearly this wasn't the fucking playground he'd sort of been expecting. But that was fine, he was there on invitation from the owner himself, so he could be trusted to perform to their standard, right?

In what felt like minutes, she was done. Sanji's eyes darted to the clock again. Ten fifty nine. Seriously? He shook his head violently, bringing himself to his senses, and made his way towards the stairs. She was sauntering happily towards him as he went, making a beeline down to wherever it was she was going to go next.

"Good luck," she winked, and he could feel himself shiver and melt where he stood. "Not that you need it."

What, had she heard of him before..? No, she was probably just being kind. He could think about it later, whatever, he needed to get up there.

She'd warmed up the crowd for him something fierce, though honestly they were probably so drunk and tanked on borderline sexual contact with one another at this point they'd probably be pleased with anything. His lips curled a bit as he held back a snort; maybe he didn't even need to play anything, after all. He could just stand there and pretend to be doing something, and they'd probably just chalk the silence up to their own intoxicated hallucinating. No, that was stupid, of course he had to fucking play. And he wanted to, no matter what state his audience was in.

Pulling his laptop out of his bag, he ran a tense hand through his hair and tugged his headphones up over his ears. Within a minute he was ready to go; the people under him were watching... and to his surprise, a few of them actually seemed to be paying attention. Maybe he hadn't gotten to them too late, after all.

The speakers came to life, and he was met with an all too familiar bassline. The sound was one that he recognized fully, but he'd never heard it quite like this; it was so loud, so resonant that it could have knocked him clean off of his feet if he hadn't been clutching the knobs on his performance controller for dear life. He let out a long, heavy breath. Yes, this was good. He could get used to this. The likelihood that anyone in the room had heard his work before was unlikely at best; but that was good, that meant he didn't have to mix much to keep it exciting to his audience. He could take it easy, get acquainted with them, and keep up the energy without taking any risks.

God, he'd completely and utterly underestimated how drunk a collective club audience could get by eleven on a Friday night. Which is saying a lot, because he'd really been expecting it to be pretty bad. He had to stifle a couple of laughs, watching the crowd out of the corner of his eye, as a few plastered guys quite literally flung themselves all over the place. During the second song of his set, he'd even witnessed a lanky man with a long nose run through the crowd with a huge box of pizza, which was completely torn apart by the sea of hands before he even made it halfway to the other side. Not even minutes after, two girls had taken to the raised platform near the back of the crowd and started strip dancing with pizza in hand. What the hell was with this club? They were in no way coherent in the slightest, but the people below him were enjoying the hell out of themselves, he couldn't deny that. If this was what shows were always like, he was downright pissed at himself for not starting sooner, and deathly excited to do it more.

Half an hour, as it turned out, was far too short. He'd lost himself in his composition and suddenly the last song on his set list was over. His fingers ached to do more, twitching slightly in protest as he unplugged his equipment. Sanji let out a shaky breath, taking in the inebriated flutter of applause as he snagged his laptop and left the stage.

Thank fucking god it went well. Better than well, even; it was awesome. He could feel their excitement in his veins. This was a drug, wasn't it? It had to be. Sanji was high on something; the attention? The recognition? It sounded so narcissistic, but it was true. He felt like he was walking on air as he approached the stairs; his head was in the clouds until he realized that he was, very overtly, being watched.

He sucked in a breath. Eyes bore into him, reflecting the glowing lights that filtered from the stage. They were so fucking sharp, but held no threat; only interest. The figure ran a hand through his short green hair; no undyed roots, Sanji couldn't help but notice. Three pristine swords hung at his side, and black combat boots shook the rickety wooden stairs under them with every step. If the dictionary definition for licentious had a picture of a person, Sanji was positive it would be this man. It took him a few moments to remember how to walk correctly.

The man with the swords continued eyeing him as they crossed paths, a half smile tugging on his lips as he slipped a small piece of paper into Sanji's pocket, fingers brushing over his arm lightly in such a way that sent a rush down his spine. Before he even had the chance to react, the man had made his way to the stage and was setting up his laptop where Sanji's had been moments before. The next artist was him? Another new guy on invitation, maybe?

Sanji took the paper out to examine as he walked down the stairs to the audience floor. _"Nice work. Meet at the bar after my set?"_ The crowd was unintelligibly screaming for the man, and he hadn't done shit yet. Alright then, clearly not a new guy. Then who the hell was he? As if on cue, the display under the table switched. 'Zoro'.

What a dumb name; he folded his arms over chest, wholly unimpressed. He watched as the man plugged in his gear, adjusting a tiny dial on his headphones with that same stupid grin on his face that he'd been wearing when he passed Sanji moments ago. "How about that Blackleg, huh?" A deep voice came from the speakers. The crowd generously voiced their approval. "Got a hard-on from those beats, damn. Keep an eye out for that guy, kids." He laughed, shifting a few more knobs as people called back various indecipherable responses.

Sanji rolled his eyes with a quiet huff; this Zoro person sure was taking his fucking time. He spun on his heels, wandering over to the bar to take a seat. There actually weren't all that many people back there anymore; everyone in the venue had spilled into the main floor, leaving the rest of the space relatively empty. All for this guy's presumably mediocre music. At least it'd be easier to get the bartender's attention, that way.

"...Anyway, I'm gonna shut the fuck up and play the damn music. Have fun."

"Finally." Sanji snorted to himself, resting his chin in his hand.

Then the speakers came to life, drowning out all the ambient noise assaulting his ears; and Sanji was in heaven. Filthy, succulent sound heaven. Without even realizing it, he'd sunken down against the bar, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle a groan. He didn't dare turn around, he didn't even want to open his eyes. He'd never really been one for such aggressive style, but this… this was different somehow. It was dirty and fast, yes, but there was something else to it too. There were very obvious influences from something, but Sanji couldn't place what. Ugh, the composition was brilliant. What he wouldn't give to watch something like that being produced up close. But... the man who'd produced it seemed like such a fucking tool; what a waste of talent.

Sanji needed a drink. Or five.

He waved the bartender over with his wallet in hand, frustratedly muttering something along the lines of "rail tequila", to which the older gentleman responded with an uncertain look. He gave a reluctant nod, then poured a few shots and passed him a couple lime wedges and salt. "You going to be okay, Mr. Blackleg?" he asked over the music, stuffing Sanji's payment into the black apron tied around his thin, bony looking waist.

"Yeah, 'm good."

"Your set was exceptionally good," he continued as he shifted slowly in the opposite direction. "I'll be looking forward to see you up there again soon."

"Thanks…" he responded, but the man was already gone, busy tending to some girls at the other end.

"Hey, bro!" Sanji felt a hand slap his back, and he had to keep himself from lurching forward and knocking his shot glasses all over the counter. "Nice work out there. You were totally super, as expected!"

"Long time no see," the blond snorted, half-assedly checking his shirt to make sure nothing had gotten on it. "Glad you guys made it."

"You looked like you were having fun," Robin chimed in, approaching him from behind the other man. "Everyone else seemed to be, too."

"Of course they did, how could they not?"

"Ohh, that's some confidence! Very nice, Sanji!"

"Nah, not really... I'm just certain that everyone on the main floor was shitfaced by the time I got to them."

"Of course," the woman nodded. "That is the sort of audience you signed up for when you decided to compose electronic music, isn't it?" She was a master at jabbing people so delicately that it didn't even sound like a taunt. But that certainly was. Damn it, even if she hadn't been born a woman, she was so smooth that he could never manage to get mad at her.

"Robin, my angel, are you implying that your sort of audience isn't ever under the influence? From what I've been told, they would have to be to put up with Franky's drumming for more than a few minutes." Sanji turned to her with a smile to mirror her own.

She simply chuckled in response, though it was barely audible over that damn sword-guy's music. With the break in conversation, he had a moment to realize again that the man's set was, in fact, still happening. Shit. Whatever restlessness had dissipated swung back in full force. He threw back a shot and bit into one of the lime wedges with renewed vigor. Setting down the thoroughly juiced slice of green citrus, his eyes hung on it for a moment. Zoro, huh..? He didn't want to be impressed; really, he didn't. But it was getting harder and harder by the minute to deny his talent. Damn it. His heart was pounding in time with the man's downbeat. Bitterly, he reached for another shot.

The three of them sat in mostly silence together, the other two seemingly having picked up on the fact that he was trying so desperately to focus on the music. Or, was he trying desperately to not focus on it? He didn't even know anymore. By the time an hour had passed and the set had switched to the next, Sanji had already finagled another shot out of the bartender and drank himself into a comfortable heat haze. Maybe it would be best to just leave while he had a good buzz; it wasn't like he owed the annoyingly talented green-haired man anything. He could go home and-

"Hey," His thoughts were cut off by a low voice alarmingly close to his ear, and Sanji spun in his chair with an ungraceful gasp. Zoro leaned against the bar next to him, waving the bartender over as he spoke. The older man slid him a full glass without a word. Weird. "What'd you think?"

"Well, I've certainly never heard anything... quite like that before." Sanji managed to get out without stumbling over his words, somehow.

"You've never heard my music before? Really?" His voice was rough, but warmer than Sanji had expected. If he had to compare the sound to something, it'd be like the crackling of a campfire when you've just put in fresh wood. Not that he would ever relate putting wood into anything to any aspect of this man.

"Nope." And it was the truth, although for the life of him he couldn't figure out why he hadn't. But at that moment, he was somewhat grateful for it; perhaps he could take this guy's swelled ego down a few notches.

"What, you live under a rock or something?"

"No," Sanj's face twisted a bit at the sudden insult. "Maybe you're just not as big as you think you are, hot shot."

"Right, maybe," Zoro snorted, taking a sip of his drink. There was a low, content growl in the back of his throat. Must have had a nice burn to it. While the man's eyes were averted from him, the blond couldn't help but take note of the slight trace of sweat that glistened on his neck. Sanji knew firsthand that the stage was pretty damn steamy, and that poorly buttoned up cotton shirt stretched over his chest clearly wasn't doing the guy any favors… in terms of comfort, anyway. "You didn't turn around even for a minute. What gives?"

What, so he'd been watching the whole time? He wasn't sure if that was creepy or charming, but it was definitely embarrassing. Sanji swallowed nervously and peered over his shoulder, having expected his friends to chime in at some point in the conversation so far... but they'd already disappeared somewhere. Seriously? Goddamn traitors. "How could you even see me from that far away?" He asked, turning back. "It's dark as shit in here."

"The lights are on over the bar, idiot. And you stick out like a sore thumb too."

"What? I don't stick out half as much as you do, moss head!" Moss head? That was the best he could come up with? Fucking come on, Sanji.

"Oh wow, never heard that one before."

"Whatever. So what was the deal with this?" He quickly changed the subject, loosely waving around the note Zoro had given him. "What did you want from me?"

"What, that? I just wanted a chance to properly compliment your music to your face." The man's voice hung a bit on the last word, eyes flickering up and down Sanji's frame before turning his attention back to his glass again.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm listening, go on."

Zoro paused, taking a swig of whatever alcohol was in there; it was clear, but Sanji couldn't tell what exactly it was. "I wasn't really sure what to expect when the boss mentioned your set, but… that was pretty fucking good. What're your influences?"

Sanji raised an eyebrow, awkwardly shifting his weight from one side to the other. What was that about a boss? He probably meant the owner; that made sense, Zoro was clearly well known here and probably talked with the owner often if he was a regular performer. He let it go for the time being. "Influences..? I don't know," He wasn't exactly in the right state of mind to be grilled with questions. But just a few couldn't hurt. "I listened to a lot of swing growing up, if that's what you mean. That sort of music gets played a lot in my old man's restaurant; so I didn't really have much of a choice but to absorb it."

"Oh, yeah… now that you mention it, I can tell. Some of your vocal samples sounded like the were ripped right from the fifties," the man gave him a lazy smile. "You're great on the stage too, y'know. Fun to watch, in a way."

Sanji snorted, idly drumming his fingers on the counter in front of them. "Sure... I bet you say that to all the new guys, don't you?"

"Oh, what, do I sound like some sort of player?" The man's shadowy grin widened a bit. Sanji's first instinct was to say yes, absolutely, you really do, but something was tugging harshly on the back of his mind to make him pause. Something about this guy was off, but not exactly in a bad way. Taking in the way his murky eyes glowed a bit under the dim lighting, he couldn't help but feel a trace of familiarity. His brain was practically screaming at him, this moss head is a good guy, but isn't that what most predators would want you to think?

"I don't know you well enough to make that judgement, but it does kinda fucking seem like it, I have to admit." Sanji argued matter-of-factly, watching the man take another sip of his drink.

"...Geez, you're fucking insufferable, you know that?"

Yes, that was the idea. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the guy really wasn't quite as bad as he'd initially thought. Weird as hell, sure, but not exactly the gigantic scumbag Sanji had been expecting to meet. "Yet I somehow haven't chased you away yet." Sanji grinned a bit, peering over at the other man from under his slightly untidy bangs. "So I must not be that bad."

"Hmph. Never said I didn't like it... But there's another reason why I wanted to meet with you, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

The man took a moment to reply, downing the rest of his glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned to Sanji with a smile and nodded his head back behind him. "Yeah. There's somewhere I think you should see. Come with me."

Sanji frowned, his clouded mind momentarily shifting back to Franky and Robin. He should be leaving with them soon, right? He had no idea what time it was, though, and he had no idea where they ran off to. They were probably banging in the bathroom or something, to be fair. "...Is it far?"

"Just downstairs."

Fuck it. Sanji was pretty damn tipsy and those two were completely missing in action. And this Zoro guy, aggravating weirdo that he seemed to be, was honestly dripping with innate sex appeal too, so why not just take the bait? Certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd gone for something like that. Taking a second to gather his muddled thoughts, he nodded, downing the last shot he had left over and setting the glass on the table. He shuddered a bit as the liquid burned his throat, and followed after the man as he disappeared into the crowd.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket as he went, he fired off a text to Franky reading, _"Hey man, I dunno where the hell you guys went but I'm going to hang out with that guy that played after me. Go ahead without me, I'll head home on my own later."_

When he looked up again, he realized that the mysterious moss head was rapidly getting ahead of him, disappearing into the crowd and out of his sight. "Hey! Slow down, asshole-" Sanji called over the noise, but was cut off by the man's hand whipping back to grab his. Zoro tugged him through the sea of sweaty bodies, tightening his grip whenever Sanji's fingers threatened to slip away from his.

It was hot, Sanji felt like he was choking, being so unused to the heat and harsh turbulence of a club dancefloor at midnight. Anonymous hands were rubbing up against him all over, probably not on purpose, though that didn't make it any less overwhelming. He honestly probably would have enjoyed it a little if not for the fact he was completely sloshed and severely overdressed for the temperature.

But they made it to the other side of the venue quickly, and he had a moment to stop and breathe; his hands dropped to his knees as he took a deep breath in. Maybe alcohol hadn't exactly been the best idea. At least, maybe not five shots in an hour. "Are you alright?" Zoro asked, leaning over to his level, hand still holding on with a vice grip. "Gonna vomit?"

"I'm fine," Sanji snorted, snapping his head up with a long inhale. "Just not used to mobs. Quit worryin'."

"Fine. Come on then," Zoro continued, dragging him over to a door. He whipped out a key to unlock it; beyond the door was a dark set of stairs, leading into a hallway that was painted black and lined with pictures that Sanji couldn't make out in the dim lighting. "Close the door and lock it behind you, alright? Don't want any psychos tripping on acid to wander down here."

Sanji nodded and complied, barely managing to flick the lock shut before he was unceremoniously dragged down the stairs. "Hey, you know you can let go of my hand now..."

"Whoops, right," Zoro grumbled, promptly letting him go without protest. He stopped in front of another wooden door painted as black as the rest of the hallway, and shoved it open. "We're here anyway. Check it out."

Sanji's eyes widened in fascination as they entered the room and were immersed in a sea of musical equipment, instruments, microphones and god knows what else littering every available surface. The lighting wasn't particularly bright but everything around them was radiant, contemporary and bursting with colors and patterns. The questionably designed wooden sculpture on the wall brought it all together; Sanji couldn't be sure, but he thought it might have been a lion head. Or maybe a sunflower with a face. There was even a liquor cabinet on the far wall next to… was that supposed to be a kitchen? And an arcade cabinet? What the hell was this place? "Are you sure we're allowing down here..?"

"I had a key, didn't I?" He responded flatly. "This is the recording studio where my crew hangs out." Walking around like he owned the place, the man ran his hands over equipment idly as he wandered over to drop his laptop on the coffee table in the back corner near where they appeared to have a video game setup. There were a slew of other laptops there as well, probably belonging to the other people who often did their work in that room.

"...Your crew?" Sanji tensed immediately. He had a key, knew the owner, and treated that room like he lived there; suddenly everything started to click.

"My label, I mean," Zoro laughed a bit under his breath, taking a seat on the couch near the back wall. "Pretty cool though, huh?"

That was certainly one way of putting it. Definitely an understatement if he'd ever heard one. "So, your label owns this room..? It seems more like a clubhouse than a recording studio."

"The whole building, actually," He nodded evenly, settling into the cushions with a contented expression. "Yeah. That's what I thought too, when I started out. It's really good for the creative process though, once you get used to it..."

"The equipment is really high-end," Sanji noted, wandering over to examine some of it up close. "Damn… You could do practically anything with this shit."

If he'd known such an unbelievable place resided underneath the paltry-looking club, he would have checked it out years ago. But he'd never bothered because it looked so insignificant from the outside; don't judge a book by it's fucking cover, he could hear Zeff's voice nagging in the back of his mind. And for once, he couldn't argue with it. This place was amazing.

"...You wanna mess around?"

"U-uh… what? Already?" Well that was a hell of a lot more casual than Sanji had been expecting. Shit. Alright then, bring it on.

"What are you blushing for? I meant with the equipment. Let's jam for a bit, Blackleg." Zoro grinned, sliding over to grab a keytar leaning against one of the arm rests.

Oh. _Oh._ Sanji had to force his heart to calm the fuck down, and he nodded in response. Real smooth, asshole. But really, the prospect was pretty tempting. It was only an hour or so ago that he'd been wishing he could see Zoro produce up-close. And while this wasn't quite exactly the same thing, it was still an intriguing idea. "Yeah, sure... got a synthesizer I can connect to?"

"That keyboard over there is a controller. You can put your laptop on the table next to it."

"Mm… kay," He wandered over to the other side of the room, opening his laptop and plugging it into the keyboard. Eighty-eight untarnished weighted keys; it had a lot of buttons and sliders, too. He didn't even want to know how much it had cost; the thing looked more expensive than his entire house. "It's… a lot nicer than the one I have at home. I've only ever seen the brand in magazines. How the hell do you guys afford this stuff?"

Zoro only offered a cryptic hum in response, mashing a few buttons on the drum pad sitting on the table next to him before settling back into the cushions again. He let the beat run for a few measures before joining in, watching Sanji with a cool stare as the blond continued setting up his gear.

Those eyes would no doubt be the death of him. With a restive exhale, he loaded his software of choice and adjusted a few presets before striking a test chord in time with Zoro's playing. The sound that came out of the amplifier by his feet was clean; precise. It reverberated straight down his spine with a vibrato that made his whole body shudder. Yeah, that was nice. They started off slow, trying to get a feel for one another, relying entirely on basic chord progressions that came without much thought to guide them in their game of give-and-take. But god, this was awkward.

Sanji's joints were tense with discomfort. Their eyes were glued together far longer than Sanji would have liked; the temptation to kick the man in the jaw was unrelenting, but couldn't bring himself to interrupt the sounds emitting from the speakers no matter how much the stare bugged him. At some point though, he seemed to get the hint and finally turned away, pausing briefly to activate another few buttons on the drum pad to continue where he'd left off. His fingers stretching along the instrument to make deeper, more powerful chords; suddenly their sound was richer and more resonant.

If the beginning of their session had been a sultry conversation, the next part was a downright passionate dispute, both of them taking turns leading the melody. With a catlike smirk, Zoro gradually transformed their exchange into a casual rendition of one of the songs from his set earlier; was this a test? Sanji snorted, taking over the melody, repeating verbatim what he remembered hearing from the show. He looked up from the keys, eyes shifting to his partner; the man's head had rolled back to rest on the couch, a telltale grin plastered on his face as Sanji tore through the verse.

Wait, this part had lyrics, didn't it? Sanji skimmed his mind to find the words. He was sober enough to remember them… probably. Fuck it, he was going to give it a shot, hesitation be damned. Zoro had started at the same time, apparently having thought that he would have to take over the vocal role himself; the moss head's eyes shot up when Sanji's voice began, something in between surprise and fascination befalling his face.

_"I don't know what forever is, but I'm gonna pull through."_

Pausing to imitate the melodic phrase that divided the lyrical lines the original song, Sanji couldn't help but let a laugh escape his lips. He was actually really, seriously having fun. Their voices sounded awesome together, though if he was ever asked if he thought so, he would vehemently deny it.

_"Six feet under infinity, I found my answer in you."_

The other man's voice had never faltered, but his expression was self-evident. Sanji inwardly cackled in triumph. He'd owned the shit out of that those lines. Fuck yeah.

"Bull-fucking-shit you've never heard my songs," Zoro interjected, pitch-bending his chord a little too hard, probably still trying to pull himself together. "You little liar."

Sanji just shook his head in response. "Nope. For shallow composition like yours, I only need to hear it once."

Whatever edge or awkwardness there had been between them was gone now; neither of them could keep the smiles off of their faces. The atmosphere had shifted from stiff to unfettered, and they exchanged playful banter over the music like two old friends over cheap beer.

It had occurred to Sanji somewhere along the line that maybe he should have been recording this. Or, at the very least, he should have been taking closer note of his own actions for future reference. Zoro's accompaniment was bringing out technique and stylistic finesse in him that he'd never even seen on his own before; if he didn't know any better he'd think that the man was channeling his own skill into him somehow.

They went on for a while longer, trying out every style they could think of, before Zoro's hand reluctantly slammed down on the drum pad, bringing everything to a grinding hault. He was let out a long sigh, setting down the keytar on the floor; the silence that hung in the air was deafening. Sanji tried to read the man's face from halfway across the room, but there wasn't much to deduce… he only looked neutrally thoughtful. Zoro opened his mouth for a second, then closed it again, then finally spoke. "That was… wow."

Sanji's eyes shifted to the clock on his laptop; they'd been at it for an hour straight. Whoops. "...Yeah, wow."

"Don't just stand there, come over here." The blond straightened, staring at the man for a moment before he complied, leaving his stuff on the table and sauntering over to where the other was sitting. Flopping onto his back, he settled into the cushions with a relieved sigh. Shit, the music had distracted him for a while so he hadn't really noticed, but he was still really messed up. The room felt like it was spinning under him now that he didn't have to hold his own body up anymore. But somehow, he felt like that was alright. "That was fun."

"Yeah, no shit. You want some more to drink?"

He let out an exasperated groan at the thought, and his body jerked slightly in protest. "No, god, that's such a bad idea. Fuck'that, ugh."

"Can't hold your liquor? Shouldn't expect much out of a kid, I guess…" he smirked, standing up to grab a bottle from the cabinet.

"What?!" Sanji growled, folding his arms over his chest as he kicked off his shoes to throw his legs up over the back cushions. "There's no way you're any older th'n I am."

"Wanna bet?"

"Damn right I do. I'm twenty-one as of last March."

The moss head paused for a moment, then pulled the cork out of his bottle with a sneer. "I'll be twenty-one next month."

"Ha, in your face! You sure you should be drinking at all, Mr. Underage?"

"As if we follow dumb rules like that here. I'm still definitely better at drinking than you," he grumbled, slumping back onto the couch and taking a lengthy swig from the unmarked bottle. "Stupid kid."

"Yeah, right. Bet ya' can't finish that whole bottle tonight." It was a petty, pointless argument, but Sanji couldn't help but get riled up over it anyways. And maybe he wanted the moss head to suffer a little, just to spite him.

"Well I was planning on finishing it anyway, but…" he glanced over to Sanji with a raised eyebrow. "Any particular reason why you'd want me to?"

"No reason... Just thought it'd be funny t'see you plastered?" He hadn't a clue if he'd sounded convincing to the man, but the knot in his chest told him that he sure as hell hadn't convinced himself. Shit, the smirk that appeared on the other man's face was unquestionable.

There was a long silence while he downed half of the liquid, not flinching even once. Where the hell did he put it all? Sanji had half a mind to call an ambulance for him ahead of time, but the thought was rattled from his mind when the man slammed the bottled down on the ground next to them.

"Ahh, damn it," Zoro sat up on his knees with a resigned grumble, sinking into the leather cushions a bit as he leaned over to run a testing hand up Sanji's thigh. "I give up. Let's do it."

Sanji sucked in a breath, momentarily sober eyes flickering up to meet Zoro's for what felt like the first time that whole evening. They'd made plenty of eye contact before, sure, but this felt distinctly different somehow. His gaze was determined, decided; he didn't even look all that horny, just… tenacious. Sanji couldn't fucking wrap his brain around it at all. Just what the hell was this guy's angle? He'd been expecting their encounter to end like this, obviously, but it still managed to catch him off guard. Some part of him had gotten so lost in the banter and symphonic nonsense that he'd completely forgotten why he'd gone with him in the first place; but the warm tugging in his chest as the grip on his leg shifted slightly served as a forceful reminder. He wasn't entirely sure he was sober enough to blow Zoro's mind or anything, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity pass, either. Without missing a beat he grabbed the other man's wrist and tugged him forward.

"You 'give up'? Wow, moss head, don't sound too eager." Sanji replied sarcastically. In no time at all there was a hand in his hair, fingers rubbing soothingly into his scalp before trailing down to rest under his chin. He gasped involuntarily as Zoro shoved a knee between his, successfully tangling their legs together in a loose knot of limbs. Much to his exasperation, the green-haired man paused for a moment with a wide-eyed look, examining his expression closely. But before Sanji could voice his objections to his hesitation, the other man leaned in to close the distance and carefully placed his lips on his. The sweetness was almost enough to make Sanji melt on contact; it was so damn soft, but by no means lacking in passion, not even slightly. Their kiss moved slowly in hypnotic rhythm, trapping him in a haze of thirst and comfortable inertness. They weren't rushing; there was no need to. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Huh. This is sort of… romantic," Shit, he didn't mean to say that out loud. Sanji wasn't a fool, he knew what hookups like this were all about. But apparently his stupid inebriated brain had forgotten what that was supposed to mean for a moment. "I mean, er, isn't this sorta thing kind of-... uh, different?"

"You have no idea," he breathed, shuddering almost undetectably between short-lived kisses. "The things I've fucking thought about you."

Sanji's stomach twisted at this, eyebrows raising as he tried to make sense of the statement. They'd only known each other for a few hours tops; was the green-haired man's mind really that hyperactive? Somehow that wouldn't have been all that surprising; there must have been a lot going on up there given how many times the man had gone silent on him over the course of the night. Surely he'd had plenty of time to think up all sorts of weird kinky shit or whatever he wanted.

But he didn't have long to mull it over before Zoro pulled his attention back to the situation at hand. He was just barely coherent enough to keep from completely devouring the man's face, fervently biting and licking at the other man's lower lip the moment they'd reconnected for more than a few seconds. The other man let out a satisfied groan, shifting back onto his knees to run a hand along his cheek, deepening the kiss as his force slowly pressed Sanji's head back into the cushion. Rather than the kiss of an apathetic hookup, it was longing. He could feel the raw, hopeful need pouring from Zoro's lips. His mind reeled, trying to figure out why; but no, it didn't matter why. It was weird but good, damn good, and that was all he needed to know.

A less than manly noise erupted from his throat when the man's tongue slipped past his teeth. He allowed Zoro to overtake him with little protest, letting him explore his mouth a bit before he shifting his head to the side. "You taste like shochu... Did y'have that at the bar, too?"

There was a short pause. "...Yeah, what about it?"

"Was curious about it earlier, 's all."

Zoro gave him an incredulous look, leaning back to study him carefully. "You're still really drunk, curly brows… You seemed fine a while ago, though."

"It just hit me, now that I'm sitting down… I was drinking shitty tequila through your whole set, how th' fuck would I not be drunk?" Sanji tried to glare at him, but the look quickly dissipated as he felt Zoro's tongue drag along his partially bare stomach, tracing the faint outline of muscles and leaving behind a chilling trail. It was cold but so fucking hot he could barely stand it; the elongated exclamation that escaped his lips was more than a little embarrassing.

"I was that good, huh?" He muttered against Sanji's skin, kissing down to the hem of his pants, then leaning back up to bite lightly at his neck. "...That you needed to get wasted to handle it?"

"Quite the c-contrary," Sanji shuddered, trying his damnedest not to lean too much into the man's touch. "I needed th' booze to keep from dying of boredom."

"You're so full of shit," he growled, tugging Sanji's belt loose and deftly sliding the jet black skinny jeans off his legs. The air was hardly inviting on his bare skin, and he shifted a bit closer to Zoro, whose body emitted heat like a furnace. "You know you loved it, quit fucking with me."

"Not really one for foreplay, hm..?"

Zoro scoffed, tossing the bundle of clothes to the ground with a swift hand. His eyes were dark with lust now, a far cry from the calm determination Sanji had seen in him earlier. "Sure I am. The whole past hour or so has been foreplay as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh yeah..?" Sanji absentmindedly bit his lip, squirming a bit against the leather. An audio fetish, how unsurprising. Albeit really, really attractive.

A warm hand trailed up his thigh, past his hips, along his side; his body rocked into the touch willingly. Yes, more of that... he wanted all the heat he could steal from Zoro; whatever he could manage to pilfer as their bodies shifted around, touching briefly then not, then touching again, then drifting apart as they tried to find a comfortable position. Zoro seemed to realize what he was after, and let out a hot breath on his skin whenever his mouth came close enough to transfer warmth. Soft gray fabric hung in front of his eyes as Zoro moved to pull Sanji's shirt from his body, and the blond paused for a moment. "Mm, y'know, this has been bugging me all night…"

"What has?"

"Your shirt. You didn't button it up right."

"Huh? Yeah I did…" He raised an eyebrow, puzzledly glancing down at himself.

"No, see?" Sanji tugged the bottom of the man's shirt towards him. "It's off by a button. It made your whole shirt sit unevenly."

The man blushed, quickly unbuttoning the shirt and tossing it to the floor to eliminate the evidence of his mistake. "...Was not."

Sanji tried to hold back a laugh, but it came out as a loud snort behind his his gritted teeth.

"Don't laugh while I'm stripping right in front of you, fucking nerd."

"Oh I'm paying attention, don't worry." His voice was all sorts of sultry, eyeballing Zoro as he slipped his pants down to his knees. Shit, he was expecting the man to be toned but this was ridiculous; his legs, his arms, his chest… everything was sculpted to perfection. It wasn't like he felt inadequate or anything, but… damn. There was a limit to how good one person was allowed to look, right? Luckily for him, however, the other man seemed to be checking him out just as thoroughly.

"Your body is… really nice." Zoro grumbled, swallowing hard.

"Mm, thanks. Planning on doin' anything with it?"

"Fuck yes," Without so much as a moment to finish his sentence, the man collapsed over him again. They met again with excited urgency, their hands roaming aimlessly with no real purpose other than to map out as much bare skin as possible. His calloused fingers felt like sandpaper gliding down Sanji's sides, and he couldn't help but squirm at the sensation; his skin was ignited, burning along the trail behind his touch. He couldn't remember the last time someone's hands alone had felt so good, perhaps because none ever had. He didn't dare admit it aloud, but this felt more like his first time than his _actual_ first time had. "...Let me know if I'm hurting you."

"Hurting me?" Sanji frowned, raising an eyebrow when they made eye contact. "What's that supposed to mean? I can take a lot more than this, asshole."

"You say that, but you're acting pretty skittish..."

"Shut up, it's the alcohol…" Sanji grumbled in response, unflinching as fingers testingly dug into his shoulders. "Don't hold back, got it?"

"Sure." The other man's voice was strained, likely out of lust more than anything else. Teeth attacked Sanji's neck and sent him collapsing back into a state of ecstasy, unwavering no matter how much he writhed and moaned. He had to tense up to keep from recoiling as one slippery finger traced around his entrance. He hadn't even noticed the man stop to get lube; was his sense of awareness really that messed up? He tried desperately not to cry out as two fingers pressed inside, but as much as he hated to admit it, he was severely out of practice. "You're supposed to start with just one, moron..!"

"Sorry. You okay..?" The man mumbled, gazing down at him with a frown. Sanji nodded, squirming a bit against the invading digits. The concern lingered on his face, however, and he leaned down to place a soft, allaying kiss on the blond's lips. It was slower, calmer, like the first one they'd shared and Sanji let out an involuntary whimper as the fingers inside him curled against something; he could feel a smile against his lips, if only for a second.

Sanji's head rolled back with a sultry moan as the unrelenting fingers worked him in, and his eyes fell on the boards covered in different colored lights surrounding them. Ah, they hadn't turned any of the equipment in the room off. "Y'sure it's fine, leaving everything on... like that?"

"Seriously? Forget about the fucking electricity bill, Blackleg; focus on me instead."

"O-okay." Ugh, what a dumb thing to say.

There was a short silence; Zoro was sitting upright, with a serious, concentrated expression. "...I'm gonna go in, alright?"

Sanji took a deep breath, stomach tightening in reflex as he felt the near-stranger press against him cautiously. Well, no turning back now. Not that he wanted to. In fact, he'd probably die if the man didn't fuck him immediately. He snorted to feign some pretense of indifference, and shifted his hips towards the man eagerly. "What is this, some sort of mining excavation? Just do it, idiot."

Zoro didn't need to be told twice, but he shifted forward slowly still, seeming to study the other's face carefully as he buried himself inside. Sanji could feel his face twisting in a myriad of expressions, though he hadn't the foggiest idea what any of them looked like. They must have been very telling, however, because the moss head waited the perfect amount of time before moving without either of them speaking a word.

For a moment, all he could hear was the loud thumping from upstairs. Zoro was moving inside him so damn slowly it was almost unbearable. But it was so fucking good, so exceptionally intense in it's languidness that he couldn't bring himself to complain. Even so, he furiously wanted more; Sanji was practically feverish with an impossible combination of satisfaction and impatience. "I-I'm fine, so just-" he gasped, toes curling involuntarily as he felt Zoro suddenly shift to penetrate even deeper. "Fuck, nngh…"

"Why're you... holding back?" Zoro breathed, digging his fingers into the other man's shaking hips to keep him steady. "Your voice is so good... let me hear it more."

"What, _I'm_ the one holding ba-aaaugh," There's no way Sanji could have possibly held back the groan that escaped him when Zoro paused to tug his legs up and place them over his shoulders; the change of trajectory and newfound intimate positioning was almost too much to handle all at once. "Oh, god, th-there, fuuuck, Zoro..."

"Louder." He grunted, shifting his knees to adjust his angle again. Reluctance subsiding, his fingers scraped up Sanji's sides before he leaned forward and seized the man's shoulders. His teeth were gritted, brows knitted tightly in a mixture of pleasure and focus.

"Then... m-make me." Sanji managed to get out between breaths, gripping at the cushion underneath his bare skin as much as he could manage. Zoro growled and slammed into him harder, faster, so much so that whatever was left of the blond's vision went white. The moan that escaped his mouth was both deafening and downright voluptuous; Sanji hadn't even known he was capable of making such a noise, but it stung his ears for moments after.

Zoro's entire body shuddered in response, disrupting his rhythm as he faltered for a moment. "Ahh, shit, I'm gonna-"

"Do it." Sanji hissed. He knew what was coming; anticipated it, even. Some messed up part of him was eager to feel the man explode inside him; he tried not to dwell too much on that realization however, shifting his attention back to his own incoming climax.

At some point their fingers had intertwined, and the grip Zoro had on his hand was almost enough to cut off his circulation entirely. All of his strength was channeled into that grasp; any more and he might have broken Sanji's wrist. But even in the peak of the intensity, he was still perceptive enough to restrain himself. A few more thrusts, and Sanji was screaming his name; they came simultaneously, abandoning all sense of composure as they clawed at each other for support. Zoro's jagged breath in his ear as they rode it out made him desperate for more, but it was futile wish.

For reasons entirely beyond him he hoped Zoro was satisfied, but the look the man gave him was completely unreadable; determined to make a lasting impression, Sanji grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a fervent kiss. But the other man returned it excitedly with a ravenous groan, hands trapping him eagerly even after the orgasm had dissipated; it wasn't until he literally couldn't breathe that they finally parted.

Their eyes lingered on one another, heavy breaths meeting between them before Sanji shakily pulled himself up to grab his clothes with a stumble in his step. Home. He had to get home. "I, uh... I have to get going, my dad's probably still up waiting…" Sanji started. It was an obvious excuse to leave, especially being so sudden, but it was also probably true. God knows the man never slept anyway. But, more than that, he needed to get out of there before he said or did something really stupid.

"...Yeah? Don't make him wait, then. Need some help getting home, drunkard?"

"Nah, I'll sober up once I'm out in the cold," he shook his head, buttoning up his shirt quickly. His fingers tremored in post-orgasmic bliss; he hoped desperately that Zoro didn't notice him shaking, lest he think he was affected too much by this. He had his pride to upkeep, after all. "I'll be fine alone."

He couldn't help but notice that the man looked almost a tiny bit disappointed. His eyes had shifted to the floor, and the smile on his face had faded somewhat. Shit… he couldn't leave the guy looking like that. "Here," Sanji scribbled his cell number onto the piece of paper Zoro had given him before, and slipped it into the man's hand. "Shoot me a text if you ever wanna play again-..." Zoro's eyes widened, and Sanji's cheeks flushed in objection. "I meant play music, moron!"

The moss head laughed, shoulders shaking a bit as his grin revived at full force. That stupid smile was completely unfair. "Yeah... right."

"Whatever, you stupid moss head… later." He gave the shirtless man one last glance, and slipped out the door.

The club above was still teeming with excitement, as if no time had passed at all, but Sanji paid it no mind. Weeding his way through the bodies, he made his way outside and into the frigid air walking as quickly as his legs would take him.

He didn't feel like running this time. Fishing a cigarette and his lighter out of his pocket, he brought the stick to his lips and flicked the flame to life. Inhaling slowly, he felt his nerves gradually settle. To say he was pleased with how the night had gone would be a grave understatement. The sober part of his brain thanked him endlessly for thinking to give the man his number, that'd been a damn good call. That was, if the guy planned on texting him back at some point. Though something about Zoro's expression when he'd taken the paper from him told Sanji he wouldn't have to worry about that.

With a quiet, contented sigh, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Thankfully, the message he'd been hoping to find was there; one from Franky, listed as received two hours ago. _"Hey bro, sorry we left ya! Figured that you'd appreciate the privacy; guess we were right, huh?" _He snorted, shaking his head as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. It was late; he'd send a reply in the morning.

Unlike the club, the city streets were almost completely lifeless. The only people he passed on his trek home were a few stragglers outside the convenience store, and a couple of familiar-looking delinquents whose eyes followed him with a knowing smirk. To others, what did he look like..? The telling blush on his cheeks and the limp in his step probably left little to the imagination pertaining to what he'd been up to that night. Whatever they were thinking, it probably wasn't wrong.

As he'd expected, none of the lights in the restaurant were on save for the one in the kitchen to dissuade burglars. Everyone must have gone, already. Well, it was almost three in the morning, after all. Shoving his key into the door he twisted and shoved it open. Scents from the evening dinner rush still hung in there air, serving as a taunting reminder that he was really fucking hungry. "The sooner you get to bed, the sooner breakfast comes…" he grumbled to himself, staggering towards the stairs. His bedroom door hung open, inviting him back into it's disorganized expanse with a warm, invisible pull.

As his face hit the pillow, he felt a vibrating in his pocket. He knew who it was before checking; there was only one person he could think of who would possibly be awake still, and expecting him to be as well.

_"Did you get home alright? Kinda don't feel like seeing your name on the 10pm news tomorrow, shitty new kid."_ The number wasn't registered in his phone yet, but there was no question who it was from. If the nerves in his face had been capable of responding to his feelings despite his overpowering exhaustion, he would have smiled.

Before falling asleep, he managed to type out some semblance of a messy response, _"M home safe just like I said 'd be... sleep tight shitty moss head."_

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><p>AN: Yeah, they did it already. Would you believe me if I told you there's an extremely important plot reason behind that? Well, you will! Not for a little while, though. Chapter two will be up tomorrow or the day after; I was going to post it concurrently with this, but it's not quite ready yet! See ya soon~


	2. Takoyaki

A/N: No notable warnings this time. This chapter is a lot shorter than the first one, so hopefully it's easier to get through. ._.; Thank you very much for your reviews, guys! I think things will start to become a bit more clear soon. We'll see. ;D Enjoy.

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><p>"I swear to god, Patty, if you don't get that dish out in five goddamn seconds, I'm going to chop off your fucking arms!"<p>

Sanji leaned forward against counter in front of him with a muffled groan, trying and failing to block out the incessant clatter of dishes and utensils that overtook the kitchen without end. His head ached beyond belief, and no amount of hydration or sodium seemed to be helping. Pacing around all day between the kitchen and dining room certainly wasn't doing wonders for his aching ass, either. But god forbid he try to explain to Zeff that he needed the afternoon off to recover. "Oh, hey dad," he started sarcastically under his breath. "I got plastered half to death last night and let a hot stranger fuck my brains out, can I take a sick day?" Yeah, right.

"Eggplant! If you have time to talk to yourself like a lunatic," Zeff barked from across the kitchen. "Then go take inventory!"

Stupid old man and his stupid telepathy. "Get someone else to do it, I'm busy!" Busy trying to establish some semblance of human functionality, but technically still busy nonetheless.

"If I wanted anyone else to do it, I would have asked them!"

There was no way in hell Sanji was going to win this battle. With an unintelligible grumble he forced himself back to a standing position. "Fine, whatever... God knows nobody else around here knows how to count, anyway!"

Well, at least the storeroom was quiet. Half of his physical suffering was more or less cured the moment he was away from the commotion that encompassed ever other nook and cranny of the building.

Eyes skimming over the labyrinth of shelves before him, he exhaled through his teeth and made for the back of the room; he'd start from the far wall and work his way back towards the door. It worked as good as any other method, but he especially liked to keep his goal in sight. Every step forward was another step towards leaving.

The flimsy clipboard felt like lead in his hand as he checked the printed figures to the products on the shelves, its weight getting heavier every time every time he spotted an incorrect number. It was no secret among the staff of the Baratie that quite a few of the employees were awful at keeping track of their supply usage despite the tight budget they were trying and failing to keep. The old man wouldn't be happy with the reality of the state of their supplies, that was for sure... not that he ever was, really. And rightfully so, Sanji thought, skimming his free hand over a space where the vinegar stock was supposed to be. That said, the troubling state of the storeroom was nothing new. Perhaps that was the reason why Zeff had sent him; he probably didn't want to face the looming shortage himself. Sanji could empathize with that.

But it wasn't like he particularly minded taking on the chore himself. It was unpleasant, but facing the problem directly was invigorating, in a way; reevaluating the restaurant's dire need to make more money was one of the driving forces behind his diligence in both cooking and music. The downside to spending time in there, however, was that he had no means of cooking or composing in the storeroom. And he hadn't exactly been brought up his whole life to develop a love for counting supplies either, so his eagerness to work hard was obviously lost in there.

The lack of productive action though, relaxing change of pace as it was, made it impossible to stay focused; it didn't take long for his mind to begin to wander. For the first time all day he had a moment to just sit and think; it was no wonder what his thoughts shifted to first.

The entirety of the previous night's ordeals felt like some sort of messed up fever dream to him now, though he was completely positive that he hadn't imagined any of it. The message sitting in his inbox from the number he'd yet to register was self-evident.

His stomach knotted a bit in sudden awareness. His phone. He almost didn't want to check it, the suspense of determining whether or not Zoro had texted him back yet being too unsettling to deal with. What if he hadn't? What if he was never going to? That possibility was daunting to consider. But, god, what if he _had_ texted him back? What the hell would he do then? At least the more disappointing alternative didn't require him to do anything.

In the end, curiosity beat out his uneasiness and he had no choice but to check. With a tortured groan he pulled his phone out of his pocket, eyes glued to the ceiling for a few seconds before he finally worked up the courage to look down.

"_Hey, what are you up to?" _

Well shit, he'd gotten the message hours ago. How he'd managed to miss the vibrating he'd never know, though it probably had something to do with the fact that he wasn't used to getting messages in the middle of the work day. Most people, at least the ones that he knew, were too busy for that; didn't Zoro have anything better to do? "_Sorry, was busy working. The old man gets pissed when he catches me texting on the job... I'm not doing much right now though, what's up?" _He pressed send without a second thought, hair standing on end as he promptly shoved the device back into his pocket. He gave a swift glance over his shoulder at the door, double checking to make sure nobody had entered at any point, but the room was just as vacant as ever. Really, it was stupid to get paranoid; it wasn't like anyone was going to bother him back there anyway, and the work he was entrusted with was hardly what one could consider pressing. Besides, what Zeff didn't know couldn't hurt him.

After sitting around playing with the checklist for a few minutes on an awkward standby, his phone alerted him to another message.

"_Old man? The one with the restaurant that plays old swing all the time?"_

Wow, so he'd been paying attention after all. Sanji had sort of assumed that their conversation at the bar had just been a formality, but he was pleased to find that the other man had actually been listening. _"Yeah, I help out there. And by help, I mean do everything my damn self, usually." _It was the truth, really. The fact that his job position had no title was proof in of itself. He did anything and everything that was needed of him for the sake of the restaurant. Case and point, the fact that he was standing in that damn room of shelves in the first place. Letting out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he made a halfhearted attempt to turn his attention back to the task at hand.

But again, his phone vibrated. _"Oh yeah? I want to try your food… where is it?"_

"_Not telling. Seriously, what do you want?"_ Sanji frowned, lips pressing together in mild irritation. It wasn't like he wasn't happy to be talking to the other man, of course he fucking was, but he'd hoped that their conversation would be more productive than just the casual small talk that they seemed to be headed towards. If he had to be bothered while he was still technically on the clock, it could have at least been for something vaguely important.

As if on cue, the screen in his hand lit up again. "_Wow, touchy. Actually I want your opinion on a track I've been working on. The style ended up sounding a bit like yours, so can we hang out sometime and work on it together?"_

Sanji's jaw slacked a bit; apparently the moss head was a mind reader. Maybe he was just being sentimental, but that sounded a lot like a date offer... and if that didn't count as "productive", then nothing did. After rereading the text few times, he managed to piece together a coherent reply that didn't seem to make him sound too eager. _"I'm sure a moron like you would benefit greatly from my help… so I will, sure. Got a time and place in mind?"_

The next reply came almost too soon.

"_Not really, didn't think you'd say yes. Uhhh how about that caf__é__ on East Tide Street? Takoyaki 8? I go there sometimes to work alone. Could you make it around five tomorrow?"_

Sanji knew the place; it was right down the street from the Baratie. It would take him no more than a minute or two to walk there, easy. But there's no way Zoro could have known that, though. Surely it was just a coincidence. He tried not to dwell on it. _"Well... I'm not working the dinner shift then, so I guess I can do that. See you tomorrow then, moss head."_

Glancing down at the clipboard again, Sanji couldn't help but smile. Miraculously, it seemed his headache was beginning to clear up.

-oOo-

"_bl: Guys, I need help."_

He gave a reluctant look over his shoulder and let out a sigh so emphatic that his walls seemed to rattle. Clothes were thrown haphazardly all over the place, covering his bed, his desk, his chair, his floor, literally everywhere. Cleaning it all would be a huge pain. Having records thrown about all over his room was one thing, he had a _system_ for that, but this was different. He would have felt a little less bad about it if he'd made some sort of progress along with the developing disarray, but he was just as stumped as he was the moment he'd started.

"_p-gin: What's up, man?"_

"_s-chi: Somethin' the matter, dude?"_

He leaned back in his chair, lifting up a shirt that had landed on his desk at some point with a cynical sneer. There were a lot of things that were "up" or could be considered "the matter", but the particular issue in question was one that he'd never faced before._"bl: I'm meeting up with that guy from the show in an hour, and I have no fucking clue what I'm supposed to wear to a thing like this. Something casual would be best, right?"_

"_muto: ...Oh boy, __I'm not touching this one. I'm out, later guys."_

"_tari: Ohh a date? ;) Wow, you go, bl. If it's the guy from the show, black pants are mandatory!" _

Rolling an unlit cigarette between his teeth, he thought for a moment. Well, she was definitely right about that. Being of his namesake, black pants were a given. It would feel strange meeting another artist without them, like somehow if he were wearing anything else he would just be normal, nothing-special, daily-life Sanji. It was a persona that he'd yet to have gotten used to, seeing as how his debut had only been two days ago. He hadn't yet connected the guy he was on stage and the guy he was in the kitchen in his mind; as far as his subconscious was concerned, they might as well have been two completely different people. It was an issue that would probably work itself out on it's own over time; the more he performed, the more he would get used to 'Blackleg'. The only problem with that logic was that he didn't actually have any scheduled shows for the foreseeable future. But if he wanted to practice being this new side of himself, conversing with another artist face to face was definitely a decent alternative._ "bl: Yeah, I like that idea... It's the rest of it I'm having trouble figuring out. I don't want to overdo it, know what I mean? :/ But I have an image to upkeep, too."_

He must have spent an eternity tearing through his wardrobe, but not a single piece of clothing seemed to be working in his favor that day. His shirts felt too tight in the shoulders, his jackets all seemed heavy and ill-fitted, and his pants felt like they hung so lowly on his hips that they could have fallen off at any moment. Sanji knew it was all in his head, likely just nerves more than anything else, but hell if it didn't bother the shit out of him regardless. If not for the prospect of assistance from his friends, he might have just skipped the meeting all together in favor of tearing his own head clear off of his shoulders.

Luckily for him, the replies came before he had the chance.

_"k-la: Yeah, I wouldn't worry too much about your image... you'd definitely look good in anything! :) You could walk around in just underwear and people would probably still be impressed by your style."_

_"gp: Lol you should show up in a skirt. ;P Wouldn't that be cute? And get a picture of his face when he sees it, too."_

Well, that wasn't exactly the sort of support he was looking for. _"bl: Ladies, please be serious for a moment. OTL Your humor is adorable but I'm dying here."__  
><em>

After a profuse amount of childish debating, they'd somehow managed to settle on a coal gray hoodie under one of his newer black blazers. Hardly the sort of outfit he would usually wear on dates with his typical delicate flowers, but this was a different sort of affair; a meeting between two young professionals… who'd just happened to have banged under the influence recently. It would get the job done, if nothing else.

He stole another glance at himself in the mirror. God, he would do terrible things to himself if he were someone else; the irresponsible part of him hoped Zoro would feel the same. But even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter. This meeting wasn't supposed to be about that. In fact, Sanji really never should have made a big deal of it in the first place; treating this like some sort of tryst would just make being professional difficult. No, he could definitely do this without hanging all over the guy. He wasn't often like that with men, anyway, and this wouldn't be any different.

At least, that's what he tried to tell himself as he grabbed his bag from the floor. Only having a solid five minutes before he was supposed to be over at the café, he had no choice but to leave the mess of clothes to deal with later. Leaning back over to his desk, he typed out a swift goodbye in the group chat before high-tailing it downstairs and out of the restaurant before anyone had the chance to stop him.

-oOo-

Sanji made his way through the front doors to the foreign establishment, and was immediately drowned in the warm scent of coffee and tempura. It was an odd combination, but appetizing nonetheless in a weird sort of way. He had briefly popped into the shop a few times before on errands for his father, but never once in his life had he made the time to visit on his own accord. He regretted not doing so; the atmosphere was incredibly relaxing. The low lighting and entirely wood furnishing seemed like just the sort of place the person he was supposed to be meeting with would enjoy. Which, naturally, made sense; why would the man invite him to a place he didn't like, after all?

He spotted a mess of green hair and familiar black armband a few tables away, his gut twisting as he shut the door quietly behind himself. Shit, was he seriously nervous over this? He'd already let the man fuck him, and he was getting anxious over coffee? Even so, he allowed himself a moment to gather his fortitude; the fact that they'd previously left off on an awkward note aside, the man in question was also technically his senior as far as professionalism was concerned. It was only natural to feel a little jittery.

Zoro was staring intently at his laptop, fingers drumming in a simple rhythm on the table as he let out an inaudible sigh. From his headphones Sanji could barely make out a muffled tune; three bars repeated over and over as the man's brow knitted deeper and deeper. His concentrated fixation didn't waver even as Sanji stood at his side, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. He was waiting for Zoro to notice him, but the man was apparently way too absorbed in his work to pick up on his presence; if their encounter was ever going to officially begin, Sanji would likely have to take the task upon himself. With a resigned sigh, he stepped forward.

"Hey." He tapped Zoro's shoulder with one knuckle in a halfhearted attempt to seize his attention. The man's head jerked up immediately, and he pulled his headphones off his ears and around his neck in one swift motion.

"Hey," He replied with a crooked smile, gesturing to the empty space on the bench next to him. "Glad you made it. You look, uh, nice."

Sanji fought back the blush from his cheeks; of course the moss head had noticed that right away. Figures. But he'd be damned if he cracked before even sitting down. "Been waiting long?"

"Nah," he shrugged and turned his attention back to his laptop, which flickered back to it's default brightness as his fingers grazed over the trackpad. "I got here early on purpose. Wanted to do some stuff before you showed up."

Sanji sat down with a nod, idly fixing his hair as he settled in. "Fair enough. How's it going so far?"

"It's going alright. It's nowhere near done yet, but the framework is there..." The man explained, holding out his hand while his eyes shifted to Sanji's headphones. The blond gave him a questioning look, before catching on to the silent request and handing Zoro the cord he apparently wanted. He nodded in thanks, and plugged the blond's headphones in to the two-way splitter protruding from the side of his computer. Running through the list to turn on the muted channels, he gave Sanji a quick glance before hitting play.

Whatever he'd been expecting, this sure as hell wasn't it.

"It's… nice. Y'know, for a stupid moss-brain, I mean," Sanji grumbled, leaning forward against the table and letting the sound overtake him. It was unfinished, sure, but it was deep, rich. The man's experience was obvious; to say that he considered the track to be simply framework could've been a seriously disparaging blow to newer aspirants, but Sanji was more impressed than he was offended. "You weren't kidding when you said it sounds like my stuff. But it's still definitely you though, know what I mean?"

The shit eating grin on Zoro's face was huge; he obviously rather proud of himself. "Glad to have your approval."

"Hey, I didn't say that," Sanji snorted, poking the other's shoulder with an mock-irritated expression. "Don't get ahead of yourself. There's still a ton of polishing to do, clearly. You can do better than this if you try."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure I just said it's not finished." The look on his face hinted that he didn't appreciate the subtle jab much, but messing with the man was surprisingly easy and difficult to resist when given the opportunity.

Then again, he was here to help, not to be a jerk. He leaned over to the man's laptop to point at an unlabeled channel towards the top of the list. "Alright, let's see… This sound you're using here is kind of weak, if that makes sense. I kind of wished it made more impact. Maybe you should try something more substantial?"

Zoro blinked and stared at him a few moments longer than necessary, clearly taken aback slightly by the sudden change of attitude. Whatever, Sanji had already agreed to come here specifically to help him, right? So it shouldn't have been that surprising when he did. "...Yeah, I was kind of bothered by it too. Got anything specific in mind?"

Sanji frowned, subconsciously chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes scanned the screen in front of them. He wasn't terribly familiar with the software the man had to work with, so picking something on his own would be difficult. "Hold on, I have an idea. There's an internet connection here, right? Let me install my sound pack real quick." He leaned closer to Zoro to take over the keyboard, opening up the browser and typing in the url of his source without skipping a beat. Zoro visibly tensed a bit, though Sanji couldn't tell if it was because of his sudden proximity or something else.

"You'd really just... give me that?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, clicking through menu after menu with an unfazed expression. "If it's to help a fellow musician, I'm fine with it." He understood the bewilderment, though. Sharing something like that was like an illusionist sharing their secrets; very few people ever wanted to. But Sanji didn't see Zoro as an enemy or whatever; he only wanted the man's work to sound as good as possible, same as he would his own.

They spent the next few moments in silence, waiting for the download to finish. It was more than a little awkward, the way they wordlessly studied one another; Zoro seemed to want to say something, but any move he made to speak was quickly scrapped. Luckily the mood dissipated the moment download was done, and Sanji went to work moving the files to the right location for use. The other man seemed really on edge as he clicked through the folders, though Sanji couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe he was hiding porn or something.

"Here, this is the sound I was thinking of," Sanji started, swapping the fonts and peering back over at the man as he pressed play. "Any good..?"

"It's definitely better," Zoro replied, glancing back with his chin resting in his hand. He didn't look particularly impressed, but he wasn't exactly displeased either. At least it was obvious that he was being honest about his opinions; that made the task of working together infinitely easier. "Let's keep it like that for now and move on."

They continued on for ages, only taking a brief break to order some food when Zoro's stomach had started growling incessantly. As it turned out, the takoyaki was delicious even by Sanji's less than amiable standards. The modestly sized meal left both of them feeling satiated and ready to push forward even after hours of hearing the same few minutes of music over and over.

"You know, after hearing this so many times, it feels sort of… empty." Sanji grumbled, sinking against the table with a perplexed expression. "Have you considered adding vocals or something?"

"Huh? Actually, yeah," the other man blinked, widened eyes darting to something on the floor that Sanji couldn't see. "I, uh... have some in mind, but haven't done them yet."

Sanji could feel the tips of his ears turning red under his headphones. Against his will, his mind wandered back to their previous night together, filling his head with recalled echos of the man's warm voice that'd been muffled against his skin. He was quite positive that Zoro's voice would only do good things for this track. Or pretty much any track, really. It was just a shame he hadn't had them recorded already. "So what's it going to be called, anyway?"

"Sorry, cook, that's a secret," He shrugged, lips curling in a harmless half-smirk before turning back to the screen. "...Y'know, I think something in this part's gotta change. it's too abrupt."

Sanji leaned back a little, eyeballing the section with a tight frown. Oh, there was an easy fix for that. "Try layering with channel four's sound and fade."

Zoro paused for a moment, seeming to mull it over before doing as Sanji suggested. But as he played the adjusted measure, his eyes brightened and he nodded excitedly. "Oh. Nice call, shit cook."

"Damn right."

They'd settled in comfortably, shoulders leaning on one another for support as they took turns making adjustments. Every time they stopped to play back the changes, they'd exchange glances to gauge the other's reaction. Sanji couldn't even remember the last time he'd spent so much time looking at another person; it was almost sort of therapeutic, in a way.

He'd even gotten used to the physical contact to some degree, instinctively following whenever Zoro leaned away enough for his warmth to disappear from his side. It was a good thing they were in public, otherwise Sanji was sure he might have eventually gotten so comfortable he could have dozed off. He cringed inwardly at the thought; he'd be damned if he let Zoro see him like that. The man would, without a doubt, _never_ let it go if he did.

"Hey, you two, we're closing in ten!" The man behind the counter called, shaking them both from their fixation.

"Shit, what time is it? Fuck!" Sanji slapped his forehead in frustration, doing a double take when his eyes fell on the clock module. "Nine?! Ah, damn it… I need to get home. I was supposed to help with cleanup. The old man's gonna kill me. Why didn't he text me? How did we kill four hours like this?"

"Whoops. Yeah, I need to get out of here too." Zoro nodded, stretching his arms over his head with laid-back yawn. "I still have a few things I want to add and switch around, but this was good progress."

"Yeah, I think so too. Maybe you're not mainstream trash after all, moss head." Reaching over to unplug his headphones from the computer, it dawned on Sanji that their meeting was over. So then, what next? Should he ask Zoro to meet up again soon? Could he even do that without coming off as desperate? Not that he'd describe himself as such, god knows he wasn't, but… at the same time, he didn't want this to be the end. If they never had an opportunity to work together like this again, it would be more than a little unfortunate.

"Fuck you too," Zoro snorted, shutting his laptop with a soft click. "But seriously... you should, uh, come back to the Sunny Go next Friday. I'm playing live again with some other guys under my label; and if it's done, I'm planning on debuting this track that night. It'd be cool if you were there for it."

Well, shit, so much for that. Swallowing hard, Sanji fought back the heat from his cheeks and let out a scoff that was a little bit louder than he'd intended. "I'll see what I can do," he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the dull chill on his side as he shifted away to stand up. "Not making any promises though; I'm a busy man. Got tons of mouths to feed and all that."

"Yeah, right. Text me if you're coming, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... I'll let you know. Later." Sanji waved to him with a casual smirk, inwardly begging the heart beating frantically in his chest to slow the fuck down and chill out as he made his way to the door. He already knew for sure that there was no way in hell he'd miss that show.

* * *

><p>AN: Phase one of setup complete. :u Chapter three is almost done already, ahaha whoops. It contains one of the dozen or so scenes I worked on periodically while trying to drag myself through the beginning, so it should be finished abnormally quickly too. :T Thanks for reading, see ya soon.


	3. An Aggravating Engagement

A/N: Hello again! Hope you're all ready for some stupid shitty music kids, because I'm super geared up over this chapter!

Kanra: Yeah, Durarara is pretty great! I watched it back when it aired in ye olden days like four years ago or something? Five? I honestly don't remember much about it but I do recall thinking it was awesome. Maybe I'll try to find some translated light novels at some point and get back into it; thanks for the reminder that it exists! :u

guest: Thank you. :D The chat group will become a lot more prevalent soon, so hopefully all will become clear then~

Thanks so much for your reviews, they really keep me going! If you ever find yourself thinking, "geez, samuuu needs to hurry the hell up with the next update", that's a surefire way to get me motivated.

Alright, enough out of me. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Thank you again for inviting us along, Sanji. I was afraid we'd have to spend another friday night at home watching b-list action movies, tonight." Robin remarked, pointedly shooting the man next to her a look.<p>

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you guys could come," The blond grinned at his two companions, hopping to the side to avoid an empty soda can lying in his path as they made their way through the parking lot. "Hitting up a club alone isn't really my style."

"Style?" Franky laughed, giving the other man's shoulder a playful shove. "And here I thought you invited us along because you enjoy our company!"

Sanji simply snorted in reply, flinching slightly as a gust of frigid wind bit at the bare skin of his forearms. While it was uncomfortable for the moment, he'd learned his lesson about overdressing the previous time he'd visited the Sunny Go. Instead, he'd opted for a much lighter outfit and decided to leave his jacket at home; he'd be plenty warm when they got inside, after all. In a half-hearted attempt to ignore the crisp temperature in the meantime, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to skim through his previous messages for what felt like the millionth time that day.

"_Hey, I can make it later tonight. The old man let me off early. Better make it worth my time, moss head."_

"_Sweet. I'm gonna be the first one on, so don't be late. Let's meet up by the stairs when I'm done, okay?"_

"_Sure. I'll be waiting."_

Aside those three messages, the previous week had passed without so much as a word between the two of them. Sanji had wondered briefly if maybe Zoro had forgotten all about him, but his chat group had been very adamant that the man was "definitely just trying to play it cool". He couldn't argue with that logic, especially considering he'd sort of been taking the same approach, himself. Finally breaking the ice again had lifted a great deal of weight off of his shoulders.

"Hey, if it isn't my three favorite people in the whole universe!" A familiar freckled man by the door grinned, waving them over excitedly as they made their way across the street. "What are you guys up to? You're not on tonight, are you?"

Sanji shook his head in response, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "No, not this time. I'm here to see Zoro."

"Really? Oh, right, he has a thing going on at the end of his set, doesn't he? Not sure what though, since Lu wouldn't tell me a damn thing about it. Not that_ that's_ anything new, really. I guess it must be a secret so, y'know, whatever, but-"

Not having the foggiest idea who the man was talking about, Sanji just nodded politely every now and then as the man went on and on about someone, apparently his little brother, and said little brother's bad habit of never bothering to explain things properly. Which was an awfully ironic complaint coming from him, Sanji thought, but he let it slide.

"Actually," Robin started, cutting the man off mid-ramble. If he was bothered by it, though, he didn't show it. "Sanji, why don't you head in without us? Franky and I are going to speak with Ace for a bit first, if that's alright."

Ace? So that was his name. Strangely enough, it seemed to fit him perfectly. Sanji had half a mind to ask what on earth they could possibly have to talk to the guy about, but it really wasn't any of his business; so he agreed and headed for the entrance without them.

The inside of the club was just as loud and energetic as he remembered it being; no surprise there. He was, however, mildly impressed that they'd managed to gather such a large crowd so early in the night. The air was overtaken by a myriad of chatter and ambient background music typically reserved only for much later in the evening. It was nearly impossible to hear or see anything through the sea of people.

His first instinct was to wander over to the bar and order a drink; though it was a hell of a lot busier in that section of the room than it had been the first time he'd been there. With nothing of particular interest going on near the stage area, it seemed everyone found loading up on alcohol to be the best possible use of their time.

Sanji couldn't help but feel a little agitated, waiting around on his own. He could practically feel people hover near him as they shifted around, their eyes hanging on him a little longer than he felt was natural; he didn't particularly mind it, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what those people were thinking. More than likely, it was because they recognised him from the previous week. But were their smiles supposed to denote friendliness, or something else? If that were the case, he'd have expected someone, _anyone_, to have actually approached him. However they kept their distance, lingering at ample distance long after he looked away to break eye contact.

When Zoro finally appeared behind the raised table on the opposite side of the room to steal away their attention, it was like a fucking breath of fresh air.

Studying the man from afar, "stunning" was the word that came to mind first and foremost. The way the blue tint from the stage lighting reflected off of his tanned skin was downright captivating. There was a spark in his eye, a familiar one, that was impossible to miss even from such a distance; Sanji could feel himself being drawn to it, but stayed still as he watched the man prepare his set. He immediately regretted not watching Zoro during his performance the week prior; he'd really been missing out on a great view. The way the man carried himself looked so damn suave from far away; if he felt nervous even somewhat, it didn't show.

The moss head's eyes flickered up, unwavering as he reached forward and tapped a few keys on his laptop. The speakers burst to life and the overhead lights dropped, drowning the room into a sea of darkness and heavy vibrations. Sanji couldn't keep the grin off of his face as he watched the man settle into his groove, so to speak, calmly nodding his head to the evolving beat as he shifted a few knobs and leaned back to scan the crowd. He looked so content and relaxed, like not a damn thing in the world mattered at all. Being the center of attention clearly didn't bother him in the slightest; perhaps it came along with the territory of having experience? Either way, Sanji was a lot more envious than he'd have liked to admit.

Pulled out of his musings suddenly, he blinked as he felt a small hand tugging on his sleeve.

"Hey, are you Blackleg?" To his side, two adorable specimens beamed up at him with microscopic stars in their eyes. They stood quite a bit closer than was acceptable by any normal social practices, but not at all too close for his own liking.

So much for nobody approaching him. He swallowed heavily, a feeling as deeply rooted in him as his own genetic material welling up like an inflating balloon in his gut. _Women._ "Y-yes… can I help you, ladies?"

They glanced to each other excitedly for a brief moment, before turning back to him with even brighter smiles. "Awesome, we saw you play last week! Your music was soooo cool!"

"Thank you," he smiled back a bit wider than he'd meant to, bending over slightly to kiss the back of the hand that had previously been latched onto his bicep. "I'm hardly worthy of your praise, but I appreciate it all the same, my dears."

"We thought you were really-" There was a finish to that sentence, but the rest of the girl's words were completely lost on his ears as the music emitting from the speakers was cranked up a few dozen decibels out of nowhere.

"Sorry, what?" He called over the sound, leaning in closer. The girl spoke again, but his ability to hear anything but the heavy noise was completely lost. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Zoro staring him down testingly; the comfortable grin on his face long since vanished.

Unfortunately for Sanji, the two seemed to tire of their fruitless exchange quickly, shrugging it off and giving him a cute wave before making their way toward the crowd. As if on cue, another hand latched onto his shoulder; this one significantly heavier than the last.

"Yo, Sanji, I knew you'd be over here!" Franky grinned, sliding up against the counter next to him. "Sorry that took so long. Lots of business to talk about, you know how it is, yeah?"

Well, no, he really didn't know, but that was beside the point. Since the two girls had disappeared, the music had somehow miraculously edged back down to it's initial volume and he could hear himself think again. He had wondered briefly if Zoro would employ that shitty tactic every time anyone approached him, but it seemed he was at least fine with Franky and Robin being near him, if nothing else. Which was definitely a good thing, because they probably weren't going anywhere any time soon.

"Did we miss anything of interest?" Robin chimed in, settling in on the other side of him.

"Not really," Sanji shrugged in response. "Haven't even gotten a drink yet. Are you guys getting anything?"

"Depends… are you offering to pay?" She smiled, clearly knowing full well he would no doubt say yes to the thinly veiled request.

Which, naturally, he did. "Of course. Franky has to buy his own, though."

"What? That's so cold, bro!"

Half an hour and approximately twelve glasses between the three of them later, Zoro's set seemed to have reached its peak of magnitude. By the time he'd torn through the bulk of his songs, the hype in the room had reached critical mass. It was around that time that the man finally spoke.

"Hey, guys. How are you all doing tonight?" The speakers hummed to accommodate his sultry baritone.

He got only a slew of varied cheers in response, of course.

"Thanks for coming out, and all that shit… Some of you might've heard that I have a new song to play tonight. I'm thinking of releasing it soon, but I wanted my favorite fans to hear it first."

More indecipherable noise; louder this time.

"I hope you fucking love it as much as I do," The smirk on his face was huge. What a show-off. "Alright, here it goes."

Perfectly on cue, the larger display underneath the one with his name on it changed to read 'Ero-Cook'.

"What an interesting title choice," Robin blinked, eyes shifting back and forth between the stage and the blond man next to her. "I wonder where he got it from."

The floor vibrated violently under Sanji's feet as the familiar first measure filled the air. He couldn't possibly count on his fingers alone the number of times he'd heard it before. It had played in his mind so many times over that he'd even heard it in his dreams once or twice. But it was better, no, _way _fucking better than he remembered it being; how the hell had Zoro managed to do that in a week? Did the concert hall just make it sound better? Was it the hype of the crowd making it seem more impressive? No, this was entirely due to the composition. He was just that good.

The first verse strengthened gradually, getting heavier, more heated, like a musical orgasm building up in the pit of Sanji's stomach; it took a lot of effort to keep from turning his attention elsewhere. But god knows the moss head would give him hell if he spent two performances in a row with his back turned.

"_Fuck, h-harder…" _

His heart stilled.

"_A-AAHH, ZOROOOO~"_ Then the drop hit like a live grenade to the face. The crowd's response was deafening.

_Holy fucking shit._

"Woah, wait a minute," Franky's eyes widened and his head whipped in Sanji's direction so fast he could have easily snapped his neck in the process. "Was that you?"

"Yeah." He managed to get out before slumping back on his elbows against the bar. It was spliced a bit and layered with effects, but that voice sampling was him. No fucking doubt about it. He could see Zoro's filthy smirk all the way from the back of the room. The way his head had rolled back in bliss when Sanji's vocals had taken to the speakers left him itching to kick the man straight in his stupid, chiseled jaw. That fucking guy really did get off on those noises, didn't he?

"Oh. Well, damn. That's... uh, pretty hot, dude."

Sanji turned and downed two of the untouched shots on the counter like straight water, clutching the side of the bar with an iron grip to steel his nerves. He was mad, to be sure, but more than anything he just felt like a huge fucking idiot. All that time,_ that_ was what Zoro was envisioning? The whole time they'd been working together, he never once hinted that he'd been considered using those samples. How the hell had he even gotten those, anyway? Searching his memory for a moment, Sanji let out a groan. The recording equipment. He even remembered asking Zoro at one point if they should've stopped to turn it off. _"Don't worry about the electricity bill,"_ he'd said. What a load of shit.

The gangly bartender made eye contact with him for a split second before slinking off in the other direction, probably scared off by the look of hostility plastered all over his face. It was an understandable reaction; given the way the muscles in his face felt so contorted, he figured he must have been making a really awful expression.

"Did you not know about that?" Robin asked, silently offering up her drink to him. But he held up a hand to refuse it; exasperated or not, he would never take a lady's drink.

"No, I-"

"_Do it...!" _The recorded Sanji's moan echoed through the room, muffled only slightly by the music it was layered on top of.

That was the first time in his entire life Sanji had ever been cut off by his own voice.

"He must've been very good to you," She mused, lips curling in an imperceptible smile. "To make such a typically composed young man like yourself sound like that."

"Sound like what, exactly?" He grumbled, running a flustered hand through his hair.

"Like… a high-end escort, or something?"

"Hey, Sanji's not a prostitute," Franky cut in. "If anything, he sounds like a porn star. You know, the kind that's good at acting."

"Gee, thanks a lot, Franky."

Having spent so much time working on the song, he knew instinctively when the piece was nearing it's end. It may have sounded extremely different to the untrained ear, but he recognised that the structure as a whole had remained the same. So when the time came, he straightened up and gave his clothes a once-over before shifting away from the bar. "Sorry guys, I need to go for a bit."

"Yeah, we'll be hanging around here," Franky started, waving his phone in the air. "Shoot me a text when you're finished though, a'ight?"

Sanji nodded over his shoulder, making his way to the other side of the room with a knot in his chest.

He watched with prying eyes as the man made his way from the stage, heart beating in time with the other's stride as if it were counting down the steps until Zoro reached him. But the moment the two of them made eye contact, there was a hand on Zoro's arm. And then two, then three. People from all around moved to stop him, saying things that Sanji couldn't hear. The man's face twisted into a grin; was it forced? He couldn't tell. He was speaking, saying something that seemed to appease them, and a few of them gave some short replies before finally letting him go.

What was that all about? He didn't have time to think about it too much before the man was in front of him, his last few steps long and drawn out as if somewhat hesitant to get too close. "Hey."

"Hn." Was all Sanji managed to get out through gritted teeth.

If Zoro had picked up on his ill-intent, he did a pretty good job hiding it. "So, what'd you think?"

What did he _think_? "I think you're a fucking bastard."

"...Huh?" His shoulders visibly tensed, eyes narrowing at the response.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?!" Something inside Sanji cracked, and he threw his hands down to his sides in exasperation. "I can't fucking believe you used me like that!"

"What are going on about now? I didn't use you." The calm in his voice was infuriating, that soft tone both unnaturally provoking and alluring all at once.

"The hell you didn't! God, so that's why you were so insistent that I was louder," Thinking back to the night in question, he could hear the man's voice in his head, demanding with harsh groans that he stop holding himself back. "Fucking christ, Zoro, come on!"

"No, I was 'insistent' because it was really sexy. I was only planning on keeping the recording for myself, originally…" Sanji struggled to fight back a blush, the mental images of Zoro sitting alone, playing back clips of his voice being almost more than he'd been prepared to handle. But that was beside the point; there was a significantly bigger issue that needed addressing.

"Why did you hide that part of it from me?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow, retracting his instinctual reply in favor of remaining silent for a moment. The roaring noise from the room behind them filled the hole in their conversation while he mulled the question over in his head, before offering a mild response. "Thought it would be a nice surprise, I guess."

"That's a shitty fucking excuse!"

"Y'know," he started, visibly gritting his teeth as his weight shifted from one foot to the other. "I think you're looking at this the wrong way."

The wrong way? Really? "What way should I be looking at it?!" Sanji snapped, fists balling tightly to keep from trembling in sheer frustration. The tension building in his chest was unbearable, threatening to explode at any moment in a violent outburst. But there were people around them everywhere, so he bit the feeling back as much as he could.

"You were watching while I was walking over here, right?"

Sanji wasn't exactly too keen on admitting that he had in fact been staring at Zoro the whole time, but he was in no mood to beat around the bush. "Yeah, so?"

"Those people who stopped me were asking who that voice belonged to."

The knot in his gut shifted upward suddenly, and Sanji bit his lip as his eyes flickered to the faceless crowd past Zoro's shoulder. "...And?"

"I haven't told anyone it was you. But, you know... if I did, I'd be doing you a huge favor. Practically all of my fans would jump ship to your music in a heartbeat. And you deserve the attention, honestly. So, maybe you should just look at the whole thing as a promotion or something if it makes you feel better."

Shit, when he put it that way, it almost sounded sort of nice of him. But the reason why he was so upset still stood; Zoro had outright lied to him, and being charitable didn't change that. "Well, I never asked for your help."

"I know that, but-…" He frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, the gears in his mind clearly shifting as he picked the words to use with caution. "Shit, it's not like I meant this to be a fucking publicity stunt; I just… wanted to make it. I could hear it in my head, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, right," Sanji grumbled. He had to admit though, if he hadn't been part of the song itself he would have probably been playing it on repeat for weeks on end. And the more he was hearing out of the moss head, the less at fault he really seemed to be. "You could have just not asked for my help at all. Then I wouldn't feel so… I don't know, left in the dark, I guess."

"Are you stupid or something?" Zoro's eyes flicked back up to him at this, squinting like he didn't understand the statement in the slightest. "I wantedto have your help on it, so I asked for it."

"...You know what, forget about it," Sanji turned on his heels, shoulders heaving with a defeated sigh as the animosity clouding him began to dissipate. He didn't want to fight, and their argument clearly wasn't going anywhere. He would just go home, and perhaps bring the topic up again once the dust had settled a little. "Just leave me alone for a while. I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

He barely managed to take a single step before a hand was encircled his wrist, tugging him back a few more steps than he'd taken. "No, hold on."

"Why?" The word came out with far more venom than he'd intended, but the other man didn't waver.

"Join my label."

"...Excuse me?" Sanji's expression fell flat, shoulders going rigid as the combativeness inside of him returned full force. "Are you fucking patronizing me right now? What the hell is your problem, you shitty mossy bastard?!"

"Would you chill out, already?! No, I'm not patronizing you! I'm extending a serious offer. The boss really wants you, and..." His face twisted into something of a flustered scowl, focus shifting to the blond's lips for a split second before meeting his gaze again. "I wouldn't exactly... _hate_ having you around, either."

Sanji scowled, looking the man once over with a chilling glare. "Well, forgive me if I'm a little fucking skeptical."

"No, I mean it," he started, his eyes reflecting Sanji's rekindled aggression. "Your music went over well with our crowd the other night. And I've confirmed your abilities at work twice now, personally."

"Wait, was that day at the cafe supposed to be a test..?" His gut wrenched dreadfully at the prospect. There's no way that could have possibly been true, right? Everything had gone so well that evening; for it to have been a setup of any variety just couldn't compute in his mind. It had been too natural, too enjoyable to have been some sort of ploy; unless making it feel that way was part of the plan all along.

"No!" Zoro growled as if he'd read Sanji's mind, his free hand punching the wall beside them hard enough to make the doorframe rattle. "I already told you that I _wanted_ your help, didn't I?!"

Sanji reluctantly tried and failed to twist his hand out of the other's, and was rewarded with an even tighter vice grip. He didn't respond, unable to think of anything to say that could match the man's sudden outburst. He was right, after all. Sanji was decidedly the one who was completely misreading the situation. Of fucking course it hadn't been a setup; that alone was giving the man too much credit. There's no way such a simple-minded guy would have gone out of his way to do something that underhanded. Not that he was claiming to know everything the man was about, of course, but that much was still abundantly clear to him.

"You're so fucking impossible…" Zoro let out an exasperated sigh, visibly untensing as the air passed his lips. "...What can I do to convince you to join us?"

Sanji paused for a moment, his mouth pressing in a tight line. The answer was simple; really, there was only one way he could possibly feel better about the whole predicament. "Work on a song with me for real."

"That's all you want?" The man's voice was laced with displeasure, but his growing smile betrayed him.

Yes, that was definitely "all he wanted". He just wanted to actually experience what he thought he'd already been given the opportunity to do; was that so difficult to believe? "I thought we were really working on something together... So I want to try it again."

"But we _were_!"

"Not if you weren't being honest with your vision of the finished work, bastard!"

There was a long pause. "Well, I can't argue with that."

Finally, the moss head seemed to understand. "Damn right," Sanji nodded vehemently, folding his arms over his chest. "So, fine… go ahead and tell people whatever you want. But you can't list me as a collaboration artist, got it? I don't want my name eternally plastered on shit I didn't genuinely work on."

"Hm," Zoro sighed a bit through his nose, rolling his eyes in mock irritation; he would have appeared a lot more troubled if he'd remembered to wipe the grin off of his face first, however. "That's fine by me, I guess. As long as you promise to talk to the boss tomorrow."

Tomorrow? It was a little sudden, but not exactly out of the question. Sanji could work with that. "Fine. Deal."

"Great," Zoro replied dryly, tugging again on the wrist that Sanji had completely forgotten he was still holding on to. "Glad we're on the same page. Can we move on to something else, now..?"

"Not if there's going to be fucking microphones shoved in my face." Sanji growled as he tried to ignore the sudden southward pulse of blood. With their short lived dilemma out of the way, the mixture of the club's atmosphere and the lingering scent of ale on Zoro's breath as he shifted closer was too much to resist; again, he was being lured. But after giving it a moment of thought, he didn't really give a fuck.

"Is that a yes?"

"I still kind of hate you right now," he grumbled with an almost imperceptible nod. "Just so you know."

"The feeling's mutual," Zoro's grabbed the fabric on Sanji's arm to pull him close as he tugged the door next to them open, and forced him through to the staircase. "But you're surprisingly hot when you're angry."

"Fuck you." He winced for a split second at the sensation of a cold concrete wall on his back before returning the man's sudden aggression twofold, taking it upon himself to slam the door shut behind them. The loud clatter of the door in the ill-fitted frame summoned a wave of excitement in Sanji's veins; Zoro's lips met his for a brief kiss, then another more convincing one, then a few more with progressively less and less precision until their eager mouths were barely even aligned correctly from the sheer heedlessness between them. His newfound grip on the man's shoulders was so tight he was sure to leave bruises behind; every squeeze of his fingers was rewarded with a content groan against his lips.

Shielded behind the soundproofed door, only their muffled panting and the shuffling of fabric against fabric filled the lull until Zoro spoke again. "So really, how did you feel about... you know...?"

"I thought it was egotistical as shit to use a sampling of your own name in your own fucking song," Sanji mumbled next to his ear, tongue slipping between parted lips to flick lightly across his stupidly well-defined jawline. "What, afraid your audience is too stupid to remember who you are?"

"Mm, you might be right about that." Effortlessly untucking Sanji's shirt from his pants, the man wasted no time reaching up underneath the thin fabric, letting his warm hands roam wherever they pleased. Fingertips followed the dips of his lean muscles, retracing their path whenever they found a spot that pulled a shiver out of the blond.

"...To be honest," Sanji started, the last word deteriorating into a quiet moan as the moss head's touch grazed the bare skin just above his belt. "Watching people lose their shit over your own sex noises is pretty awesome."

Zoro snorted under his breath, hands making short work of the buttons hiding Sanji's chest from his sight. "You know, people are probably going to fuck to that song after it's released."

"Mm, yeah. But _you_ get to fuck to the real thing, so-"

"Don't fucking talk like that or I'll seriously cum right here, holy shit," Zoro hissed, fingers curling into the mess of blond hair without an ounce of concern for it's meticulous styling. Had it been anyone else doing that, Sanji would have been irked by it; but Zoro demanded too much of his attention to allow for such petty irritability. "I can't believe you won't let me use a mic right now, you selfish jerk."

Sanji grinned, a palatable feeling of superiority welling up inside him. "You really do get off on my voice, don't you?"

"So fucking what? You love the attention." Well, he was certainly right about that. As far as fetishes go, it was pretty tame; still hilarious, though.

His amusement didn't last long, cut off rather abruptly by a feral kiss that forcibly obliterated every coherent thought from his mind. Zoro's hands shifted to hold his head securely in place, hot palms pressing against his cheekbones as his tongue muscled it's way past closed lips to invade his mouth without warning.

For the life of him he couldn't get over how right it felt; in fact, he was about to voice exactly that, but was cut off by a heavy groan as Zoro shoved a knee in between his legs to bring them closer together. His foot shifted to accommodate the man's action, and he freezed as he felt the edge of the step slip out from underneath him. But the feeling was short lived, immediately replaced by hands gripping at his hips as he was lifted and forced up higher against the wall.

His legs wrapped around Zoro's waist for balance, and he could feel the bundle of swords at the man's side caress his outer thigh with every superficial movement. The hands supporting him groped mercilessly at his ass, unrelenting as Zoro smirked against his lips. Had their clothes already been fully discarded, it would have made for an incredibly erotic position; Sanji inwardly made a mental note of the idea for later.

He let out an audible gasp that devolved into a strangled moan as he realized too late that his neck, in that position, was at the perfect height for Zoro to ambush. There were teeth, god, everything was so hot he could barely stand it; Zoro was apparently hellbent on leaving a mark behind, focusing almost all his efforts on the dip before his shoulder. Sanji's brain nearly melted in his head as the man worked in an experimental grind; frottage wasn't particularly easy to pull off in that position, but hell if it wasn't it worth the effort.

"D'you… wanna move this to my bedroom?" Zoro managed to get out in the midst of heavy breaths, lazily leaning his forehead against the other's to make some semblance of eye contact despite the half-lidded haze that had overcome both of them.

"Bedroom? Where is it?" The idea made Sanji's heart skip a beat; a bedroom definitely had more appeal than the stairs, the promise of total privacy overwhelming his mind with the possibilities.

"Down the hall past the recording room."

"...You live here?" He hadn't even considered the possibility, but after thinking about it for a second it did sort of make sense. The way the man seemed so completely at home in that place would certainly be a lot more fitting if he actually resided there.

"Yeah. Come on, I'll show you…" Zoro inhaled deeply against Sanji's skin before setting him back on his feet. Pausing to steady himself, Sanji took a moment to look over the man in front of him; his disheveled hair stuck out in every direction, the grassy color providing a stark contrast to the red tint across the bridge of his nose. He was reluctant to call the sight "cute", but he honestly couldn't think of a better word.

There were lips on his again, coaxing him forward as Zoro took a step backwards down the stairs. The action was unsettlingly dangerous; one wrong move and only concrete flooring at the bottom of the passageway would be there to catch them. But Zoro seemed determined to not let them disconnect as he took another step back.

Sanji stiffened as the cellphone in his pocket vibrated once. Probably nothing.

But as he took a step forward, it happened again. He sighed into the kiss and forced himself away, reluctantly pulling the device out.

"_Franky got kicked out for tampering with a light fixture, are you down to leave?" _And another that read,_ "Unless you're… 'busy'?"_

Well, yes, he was definitely busy. Busy about to engage it what would likely be the most mind-blowing sex of his life to date, but still busy nonetheless. But then again, he really didn't want to ditch his friends two nights out in a row. He wasn't that shitty of a person. With a frustrated noise under his breath he bitterly typed out a swift response. _"Okay, meet me by the front entrance?"_

"Did something happen?" Zoro asked, already frowning a bit in mild disappointment.

"Yeah," he nodded, shoving the phone back into his pocket. "A friend of mine is sort of in trouble, apparently. I have to go."

"Shit," Wiping away the saliva that'd gotten on his cheek somehow, he gave a resigned nod back. "...Guess that's your cue, then. See you tomorrow for that meeting, right?"

He was somewhat surprised that Zoro would let him go so easily, especially in that state, but he supposed that was probably for the best. "Yeah, you will." Taking a step back in the direction they'd come from, he was promptly stopped in his tracks when hands circled around his waist to pull him back.

"If you don't show up, I'm gonna hunt you down." The words were low in his ear, sounding a lot more like a promise than like an empty threat.

"You don't trust me?" Sanji glanced over his shoulder to give him an amused look, regretfully prying the fingers from his hips. "I'm not gonna skip out. Good night, Zoro."

"...'Night." Was all he heard as the door clicked shut behind him. Damn it, that man was capable of being adorable as fuck after all.

Outside, Franky was grumbling something about "safety code violations" and "just tryin' to be nice", arms folded over his broad chest in displeasure.

"So what exactly happened, again?" Sanji asked, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them out of the cold.

"Oh, Franky got kicked out because he thought it would be appropriate to fix one of the light fixtures in the bathroom while there were a dozen other people in the room." Robin answered matter-of-factly as the three of them made their way across the street towards the parking lot.

"It's not my fault they left it like that," the man retorted with a snort. "It's like they want the damn place to catch on fire or something."

Sanji sighed heavily, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "If you're going to interrupt my fun, at least get in more interesting trouble than that next time, would you?"

"Fun? I thought you were going to rip that guy's head off. What happened with that?"

He wasn't quite sure how to explain that he'd more or less been set up with a legitimate record deal and promptly snogged half to death with the promise of relentless sex involving guy in question, so he simply shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just take me home, dude, I'm tired."

"Alright then, hop in." The man pulled the car door to the driver's side open and Sanji squirmed into the back seat. The moment after he's managed to settle in, his phone vibrated again.

The text, unsurprisingly, was from a number that he'd grown to know by heart. _"Next time I won't be so nice."_

Secretly, he really hoped that were true.

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy, a meeting with the boss. There's no way _that_ could go poorly, am I right? :T Welp, see ya guys soon!


	4. Induction

A/N: Thanks for all the encouragement everyone! Every time I get an email notification from ff about this fic I want to run home and get working on it again. 8D Good thing school's out for a month! Sorry this took soooo long to get posted; it took me a whole week to finish moving back home. On top of that I've been working on finishing a one-shot too, as well as a little something to go along with it. Life has been really busy, and suddenly now it's not. o_o;

Kanra: Ask and ye shall receive. ;P I actually wasn't planning on adding chat in this part, but it ended up working into the plot really well. So thanks for the suggestion! It should be noted, however, that if you guys do keep guessing I'm still not going to confirm or deny anything! Each of the chat members will be introduced at one point or another, I promise.

Alright, that's enough out of me. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Sanji honestly didn't know exactly what he had expected the boss to be like. But whatever it had been, it sure as hell wasn't this.<p>

Behind the mahogany desk in front of him sat a man in a tattered straw hat, with a scar underneath his bright, beaming juvenile eyes. By appearances at least, he looked like he couldn't have been older than seventeen or so, but the air around him was undeniably as powerful as one would expect from a veteran record label president. The guy seemed like he was standing on top of the world, somehow, even though technically they were in a basement.

"Alright then, join my label!" His rough voice had a strident tone to it that was practically dripping with enthusiasm. Bare feet rested nonchalantly on top of his desk, fidgeting incessantly as he squirmed around in his chair. He looked restless, but not at all uncomfortable.

Well, that was straightforward. At least Sanji couldn't fault him on being to the point. "Any specifics you wanted to run by me, or..?"

"Oh, uh," The man with the scar paused for a second, eyes rolling around in his head like he was trying really hard to remember something. "...Yeah! We're gonna be the most elite label in the world, so you gotta make sure you keep making good music!"

Something deep in the back of Sanji's mind cracked, and his expression fell flat. This kid obviously had no fucking clue what the hell he was doing. Not that Sanji had any idea either, really; but he wasn't the one trying to run a label, so it was hardly the same thing. "That's... not really what I meant."

"Oh." The president's excited face twisted into a blank, tight-lipped stare, and he leaned back a bit in his seat with a small huff. "Then, what's up?"

Was he really supposed to sign his life over to this guy? He couldn't help but notice the inkling of dread developing in the depths of his subconscious; everything about the situation felt like a huge mistake. Then again, if he really wanted to, he could leave immediately and never come back. But somehow the sheer absurdity of the man in front of him was intriguing enough to keep him standing there, for better or worse. "What exactly would you want me to do in this, uh, agreement?"

"Isn't it obvious? Make your music here with everyone, and go on tours with us! Then get super popular and make us more famous!"

Again, not at all what he was asking. He let out an audible groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as the president watched with an absent minded look. "I get that part," he started frustratedly. "What I meant was, are you going to reserve the rights to the songs I produce for you? Are you gonna pay me? That's the sort of stuff I'm talking about."

"Hm," The man shrugged, head wobbling back and forth on his shoulders to accentuate his apparent indifference. "Well... you can have whatever you want, as long as you help."

Sanji was on the brink of tearing his own hair out at the roots when the door behind him swung open with a brief, high pitched squeak.

"Oh, hey Blackleg; are you here to sign with us?" A familiar redhead sauntered in, giving him a cute nod as she made her way to the over-sized desk to drop off a paper plate of what appeared to be... second-rate microwavable chicken nuggets, maybe? That was his guess, anyway; though they looked more like chunks of brown coal. He was stuck between swooning at the sight of her, and recoiling at the sight of the sorry excuse for food in her hands.

He paused for a second, trying to gather his muddled thoughts. _Was_ he going to sign with them? Honestly, at that point, her question was a damn good one. "Maybe, though I'm not sure I really understand what sort of deal this is supposed to be."

"Geez, are you stupid or something?" The man laughed, leaning back even further in his cushiony throne of damaged velvet. He shoveled the food on the plate into his mouth without breaking eye contact; how the hell he'd managed to make that look intimidating, Sanji would never understand. "You hang with us, and keep doing what you're doing. Producing here with us will boost your fame, then you'll get super popular, and our label will get more famous because you work for us! It's a… what's it called, again? A cycle?"

Well when he put it that way, it sounded fairly straightforward. Overly simplistic and completely unprofessional, sure, but not outside of the realm of prospect. "...Is that really what it's like?" He asked, turning to Nami with a puzzled look.

She made a noncommittal noise, moving the president's elbow out of the way to take a seat on the armrest. "...I guess so? Pretty much, yeah. We're not very traditional, I know, but our system works well for everyone here. Trust me, it's not a bad arrangement."

It sounded sort of fun, he had to admit; being able to work in a liberating environment with such free spirited people. Even though it wasn't even remotely what he'd always imagined signing with a label would be like, it was still technically a step toward his dream, wasn't it? Besides, a certain moss head would probably be more than a little pissed if he turned down the offer at that point. He'd basically promised the guy he'd do this, after all.

Swallowing heavily, he nodded. "...Alright, then."

"Ah, really? It's a deal, then! Let's go make music!" The president stood from his desk excitedly before Nami sighed and pushed him back down.

"Not yet, stupid. Don't leave your new employee looking so perplexed."

"Don't you, like, have a contract or something?" Sanji asked, though he already had an idea of what the answer would be.

"Luffy doesn't really do paper," Nami interjected, swatting the aforementioned man lightly on the head when he struggled to stand again. "A handshake is all he needs. A gentlemen's agreement or whatever."

Sanji gave him a skeptical look, then reluctantly extended his hand. "Okay, I guess that's fine." Albeit sort of questionable; like something from an organized crime film. What next, were they going to show him a hidden vault of heavy arms? Maybe their club was secretly part of an underground gambling ring or something. The thought was only in jest, of course… but somehow, he just couldn't quite put it past them.

Luffy nodded vigorously and accepted the gesture before looking back up at the woman next to him. "We're done, right?" He practically vibrated in his seat with excitement, and lept to his feet the moment she nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I'll take care of the details and show him around." Before she was even done talking, he was bounding towards the door, off to do whatever it was he was going to do next. Well, that was fine; Sanji figured it wouldn't be hard to find him later if he needed to. "So, Blackleg, do you have a real name..?"

"Hm? Oh!" He turned back, scrambling to shift his attention from the empty doorway back to her. "My name is Sanji, my dear. I'm sorry it took me so long to introduce myself. Usually, I'm more polite than this… It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

She gave him a smile that he thought might have been forced, or at least a little off-put, and stepped back into the hallway. "Oh, erm, the pleasure's mine. Let's go take a look around, shall we? I bet you'll really like this place!"

He coughed a bit to himself, inwardly trying to fight back the sudden onslaught of saucy memories that invaded his mind as his gaze fell on staircase. To say that he _liked_ the place would have been an understatement if he'd ever heard one. Although it certainly might have been the person, rather than the place, in his memory that attributed to the feelings of sentiment. "I've, uh, actually been here before. Only in the recording room, though."

She paused at this, spinning on her heel mid-step to look him over with wide eyes. "...Oh my god, you're the guy Zoro brought back here last week, aren't you?!" The accusation came out as almost a screech, but the look on her face was far from one of horror.

"Y-yeah, that would be me," he admitted, stiffly tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. Or at least it could have been him that she was thinking of. Naturally, Sanji had no way of knowing whether or not he was the only one that Zoro had brought down there that week. There very well could have been others after all, right? God knows the man was attractive enough to land more than just him if he wanted to; though he decided not to dwell too long on that conclusion. "Did he say anything about it?"

"No, he didn't actually mention anything, but it was really obvious something happened… he wouldn't stop staring at that stupid couch. I knew he must've had some really good action there. Didn't realize it was you, though. Wow."

It figures the moss head would be so damn transparent. Nevertheless, being more or less caught red-handed by the woman was far from the sort of first impression he wanted to make. "I didn't mean to intrude-"

"Listen, Sanji," Nami cut him off, with a soft but knowing grin. "It's fine. You made Zoro happy, or… y'know, whatever weird emotion he feels instead of happiness. This is a working environment, but it's a home too. It might seem a little weird, but I think you'll get used to it pretty soon."

He gave a reluctant nod, and continued following her quietly down the hallway to the familiar wooden door nearest the stairs. A family, huh? If the rest of them were even half as carefree as their boss seemed to be, he didn't doubt that for a second.

"Anyway, like you already know, this is the main recording room. We work, eat, and hang out almost exclusively in here. The door across the hall is storage, that's where we keep the mountains of stuff we're not using at the moment. So if you ever need something, check in there," she explained, shoving the door in front of them open. "...Oh, Zoro, you're awake?"

"Fuck off, witch, I was only asleep for five min-" The moss head's crass words paused abruptly, and he straightened in his seat like a deer in headlights or something equally as stupid looking. It dawned on Sanji a little too late that perhaps it would have been a good idea to send him a warning text that he'd shown up. But he had definitely told Zoro that he was going to come that day, so why the hell did he look so surprised?

"That's no way to speak to a lady, asshole," he spoke up in an effort to end the brief silence, trying desperately not to squirm under the man's intense surveying. His voice was even, but it came out far from impassive; shit, this was weird. Couldn't the guy at least say something to him?

"You're here."

Not exactly the fluent verse he'd been hoping for, but he'd take what he could get. "I told you I would be, didn't I?"

Apparently having caught on to the tense atmosphere, Nami grabbed Sanji by the shoulders with long, delicate fingers and shoved him out of the doorway and into the room. "Sanji's our newest addition, Zoro. So try to be nice to him, okay?"

"...You really joined?"

"That's what she said, isn't it?" Sanji snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets in a mildly successful attempt to seem cool. "You should pay more attention when people talk to you."

He looked as if he wanted to say something in response, but the opportunity was lost; their short exchange was ended as more bodies spilled in through the door behind them.

"I heard Nami scream something a minute ago, what's that all about?" The voice belonged to the freckled security guard, whose concerned tone was weirdly incompatible with his lazy saunter as he wandered into the room and flopped sideways into one of the armchairs.

"Me too, is everything okay?"The smaller boy with the messy brown hair asked, jogging over to her side with a worried frown.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry," she shrugged, moving out of the way just in time to avoid being barreled over by a blur of red and beige; the pile of limbs and cloth flew from the doorway to the floor with a loud thud that seemingly went wholly unnoticed by everyone else. "That was nothing. Have you all met our new guy already?"

"I haven't!" One half of the pile laughed with a slightly pained wheeze, elbowing the other in the face as pulled himself up off of the ground. "Sorry about that, my underling and I were just settling a business dispute. My name's Usopp, and I'm the one in charge around here. If you need anything just ask me, alright? I'll take good care of you!"

"He's lying, I'm the leader!" The president pouted, as if that weren't the most obvious thing in the world. He'd disappeared in an instant from his spot on the floor, lying back on the couch with a flop that rivaled Ace's in haphazardness. "And it wasn't a business dispute, he just messed up my laundry!"

"Folding it for you doesn't count as messing it up! Be grateful for once in your life!"

"Well in any case, it's nice to meet you." Sanji tried fruitlessly to hold back a chuckle and reached for a swift handshake. The man named Usopp certainly seemed friendly enough; his smile was among the most genuine-looking ones Sanji had ever seen, even if the words spouting from his mouth were anything but.

"I don't believe we've officially met either," Another voice chimed in from the doorway, catching Sanji by surprise; turning around, he realized it belonged to the older gentleman who'd been manning the bar both nights he'd been there. "My name is Brook. I had a feeling I'd be seeing you here at some point, Blackleg, though I'm very happy it happened so quickly!"

"Yeah, me too." Brook's hand felt like skin and bones in his, which set off alarm bells that Sanji couldn't ignore; the man didn't appear to have any other notable signs of malnourishment, however... perhaps he was just particularly lanky by nature.

"Come sit down over here, Sanji!" Luffy called, waving an arm in the air without even so much as an attempt to sit up. Sanji's focus shifted to the empty spot between the president and the moss head to his right. It would be fine for him to sit there, wouldn't it? He was still slightly off-put by Zoro's strange behavior when he'd entered; and the last thing he wanted to do was step on the toes of the guy who'd more or less brought him there in the first place.

Sanji took a few slow, experimental steps forward, raising an eyebrow in Zoro's direction as if silently asking permission. For a split second, there was a glint in the man's eyes that didn't match the rest of his cryptic expression. Then suddenly he smiled; a real, exhilarating smile, and Sanji's nearly tripped over himself mid-step. Fuck, he hadn't been expecting that. "...You need something, moss head?" He asked sarcastically, unsuccessfully trying to read the Zoro's face as the man's eyes hung on him far longer than they probably should have. It wasn't until his back made contact with the cushion that he finally turned his gaze away.

"Nah," he responded, as if the inquiry had actually been legitimate. "It's nothing."

It sure as hell didn't seem like nothing, but Sanji supposed he would let it slide, if only to spare the man in the presence of others. He could always prod him for information again later, after all. In private.

The moment he'd managed to settle in comfortably, the door to the room swung open yet again to reveal two very familiar faces. Sanji nearly choked on his own breath for what must have been the millionth time that week. Really, he just couldn't catch a fucking break, could he?

"Oh good, you guys are in here," Franky let out a sigh of relief as he and Robin stepped inside. "Nobody was upstairs, so I was thinkin' you all might've been out somewhere."

Now it was his turn to stare wide-eyed at the doorway like some sort of idiot. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Hmm? Oh..! Hello, Sanji," Robin gave him a sideways glance before making her way over to the group. "We're here to pick up Ace. But since you're here as well, I suppose we could stay for a while before we go. Are you taking up employment here?"

"Ace? Why Ace?" He ignored her question, not entirely on purpose, but rather because his brain wasn't quite processing the information in a timely fashion at all.

"Well, we can't exactly get much practice done without the lead guitarist, right?"

Lead guitarist… _lead guitarist_? The phrase took a moment to register properly. Of course they had one, considering they were in a band... but the Sunny's security guard, of all people? How had nobody bothered to mention that?

"You would have already known he was our bandmate if you'd ever managed to come to one of our concerts." Robin grinned, stifling a chuckle at his expense as she cracked open one of the fresh soda cans on the coffee table.

"I've got a busy work schedule, you know that," he sighed, giving the woman an apologetic half-shrug. And it was true; the Baratie had all but completely obliterated the prospect of having a social life. But he couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt at that; he really should have made more of an effort somewhere along the line to make it to a show or two. Not that there had been many opportunities yet, considering they had become friends not too long ago, but still. "So, you guys are here often?"

"I'd certainly say so," she started with a smooth nod, reclining on the armrest beside Luffy's spot as her companion went on a rant to some of the others about their shitty light fixture or some such issue. "We used to spend every day here when the building was in development. Franky was the one who built this establishment."

While it was new information, this wasn't particularly surprising to Sanji; after all, the reason why he'd grown to know the man in the first place was because of the maintenance he often did on the restaurant. Franky's day job was something he did actually know a fair bit about, if nothing else.

"I would be the one maintaining it too, if you jerks didn't kick me out every time I try to fix something," he chimed in, apparently having still been tuned in to their conversation.

"Hey, hey, you can fix stuff whenever you want, buddy," the freckled man grinned, patting Franky's shoulder quite a bit harder than was probably appropriate by any normal person's standards. "Just as long as it's not when customers are around, you feel me?"

Franky snorted a bit in mock disdain, but nodded and returned the other's friendly gesture. "Yeah, man, I feel you."

With a soft creak from the furniture underneath him, Sanji's attention was dragged away from the new company by a barely perceptible sensation of heat against his side. The sudden physical contact caught him off guard, and he turned to Zoro in surprise; but despite the arm slowly slipping between the back cushion and Sanji to wrap around his waist, Zoro eyes didn't meet his. His gaze was contentedly focused on the others instead, in what he could only assume was a vain attempt to be stealthy.

Fingertips dug into his hip just under his belt, not enough to be painful, but enough to make his lack of eye contact seem almost provoking, in a way. He had to fight to hold back a groan; the somatic attention he'd been craving all day was driving him crazy, slight as it was. If not for the gradual shift to a gentle, reassuring graze of fingers over the fabric of his shirt, Sanji would have been all sorts off ticked off. He really hoped that the strange half-silent treatment wasn't going to be a running theme with the close proximity of their other associates; part of him would rather have been ignored entirely than groped in silence.

"Nami, I'm hungry," The president groaned, comically clutching at his stomach as he flung himself back up into a proper sitting position. "Call for pizza or something!"

"Oh, hell no," Sanji interjected reflexively, jumping at the chance to distract himself from the intimate contact hindering his ability to think straight. The outburst must have come off as strange though, because everyone in the room turned to look at him, the moss head included. "Over my dead body. You have some semblance of a kitchen less than thirty feet away from you; use it."

Luffy took a moment to internalize that statement, lips pressed together in a tight frown before he let out an exorbitant sigh and shook his head. "That's too hard. Don't wanna."

He shot the man an incredulous look; _too hard_? What about it was "too hard", exactly? "Do you guys always eat this poorly?"

"Sort of, yeah." The president flopped back over on the couch by his side, looking up at him with distressed eyes that seemed to reflect the lighting just right to make him look borderline pitiful. "What do we do, then?"

Naturally, there was no way he would allow their shitty habits to continue. "Fuck it, fine, I'm cooking dinner tonight," he stood with a grumble, ignoring the sound of protest coming from Zoro as the man's arm dropped from his waist to the couch cushion with a soft thud. "Surely you have something resembling basic ingredients here, right?"

"You can cook, Sanji?" Luffy perked up, a hint of hopefulness in his inflection.

"Damn right I can." He had a decade of experience under his belt to prove it, too.

"Oh, so that's where the song name came from," Nami muttered with a quiet giggle. "I was wondering about that."

Wandering over to the pinewood cabinets adorning the far wall, he tugged them open with mild reluctance. As he'd expected, they were nearly barren. There was absolutely nothing of value to him to be seen; only a few half-eaten bags of chips, candy, and microwavable noodles. It was a minor miracle that those people were still alive, given the evidence in front of him.

"There's some stuff in the fridge," Usopp offered with an apologetic smile. "I think we have some leftover rice and eggs, maybe."

"I'm stocking this place correctly the moment I get the chance," he said mostly to himself, grabbing a charred frying pan from the top of the stove and turning on the sink faucet with a sigh through his nose.

"So, Sanji," Luffy started again to fill the short lull in conversation. "What's your first project gonna be? Got anything cool in the works right now?"

"Me?" Looking up from the sink, Sanji's eyes hung on the pan in his hands for a moment before glancing over to the group. "Well, sort of... Zoro and I have a thing we're going to do together, if I recall correctly."

"Really?!" The president did nothing to mask his excitement, launching himself up again to peer over the back of the couch with bright eyes.

"Yeah," Zoro interjected plainly. "He said he'd join if we worked on a collaborative track together. Hope you don't mind, boss, but we already shook on it."

It was really more of a rigorous, steamy make out session than a handshake, but he let that particular detail slide. The "boss" let out a thoughtful hum while Sanji went to work organizing his petty ingredients, before speaking again.

"Well, that's fine, but… rather than one song," Luffy mused, leaning upside down over the back of the couch, arms swaying back and forth idly over his head. "You guys should do a whole album instead, don't you think?"

Sanji nearly tipped the skillet of oil all over himself in shock. "What?! You're joking, right?" That was way, WAY more than he'd signed up for. Working on a song with Zoro was one thing, he'd practically already done that before anyway. But a _full fucking album_ meant he'd be working with him a bare minimum of ten times longer than that. More likely, the project would span the length of months; he couldn't decide if the idea was more exciting or horrifying.

"Joking? Nope!" He shook his head, looking over to Zoro for support. "More is better, isn't it?"

"But, Luffy," Nami cut in with a reasonable hint of trepidation. "None of us have ever done a whole album together; that's a really big project!"

"Eh, who cares about that? New challenges are exciting," he responded firmly. "It's fine, right?"

"I don't know… what if they don't coordinate together all that well?"

He could understand where her concern was coming from, but this was Zoro and him they were talking about. Sanji could admit that he didn't know the man very well, but there was undoubtedly something there; he'd felt it the last time they worked together. In fact, he'd really, _really_ felt it, whatever "it" was. As far as their ability to collaborate was concerned, there was nothing to worry about… at least, in terms of output quality. When it came to their capacity to avoid bickering, he couldn't promise anything.

"Then let's use this upcoming weekend to have them work together on stage, and see how it goes!"

"Another live show again so soon..?" Usopp frowned, mulling the idea over in his head with a drawn-out hum. "I don't know, It might be too early for something like that. There isn't much fresh material, y'know?"

"We don't need a whole new set, since I'm sure Sanji has lots of stuff he hasn't gotten to play yet! Right?"

"Yeah, actually I do." In fact, he'd stockpiled work for ages while he was developing his skills over the years. They might not have been as good as his newer works, but some of them were still among his favorites even from a shitty self-deprecating artist point of view.

"Awesome! Let's do it!" Luffy smiled, fist launching into the air excitedly.

"What do you think, new kid? Wanna give it a shot?" Zoro looked over to him, with a hint of a smirk and a look in his eye that was practically daring him to say yes.

As if he even needed to ask. "Yeah," Sanji nodded with a chilling grin in retaliation. "If you think you can handle it, anyway."

Despite the enthusiastic atmosphere as the group went to work planning out their method of attack for the new project, cooking for them had been no easy task, much to Sanji's frustration. The tools he'd been allotted to work with were fit for cavemen, and the scraps of ingredients were no better. Any gripe he'd previously had with the Baratie's kitchen was instantly scrapped; that place was a godsend compared to this. Begrudgingly, he had to settle for an original concoction of fried rice and leftovers. It was a far cry from the dishes he was used to preparing, but at the very least it managed to satisfy the nutrition requirements the lot of them were almost definitely not used to fulfilling.

When all was said and done and they finally sat down to eat, the group was on the verge of tears; they were likely just thankful for something that hadn't been warmed by the power of a microwave alone, really, but their gratefulness was still just as pleasing.

They talked excitedly over dinner for what felt like ages. The group regaled him with tales of the past, including but not limited to the time Ace had suffered a bad trip and set fire to the abandoned apartment building next door; after thinking about it for a minute, Sanji was fairly certain he'd heard something about that in the news a while back. How the hell he'd managed to evade jail time for that one, he had no idea.

The next time Sanji bothered to pull his phone out of his pocket, it was already almost eleven.

He nearly fell out of his seat at the realization, doing a double take to make sure he was reading the time correctly; well, so much for getting home at any reasonable hour. "Ah, crap, I gotta get out of here… sorry guys, I'm gonna have to leave the dishes to you."

"Huh?" Luffy frowned a bit, picking the scraps off of his plate. "You're not staying here?"

Of course he'd be expecting Sanji to do so. That was how their group functioned, apparently. But there was no way he could; he hadn't even told Zeff about the deal in the first place. At least, not yet. That was a talk he wasn't looking forward in the slightest. "There's no way I can yet... I need to talk it over with my old man, you know how it is."

"Aw, guess it can't be helped. I'll allow it!" He smiled, giving him an understand nod. "But be sure to talk to him soon, okay? I want you here as soon as possible!"

Sanji couldn't help but smile at his words as he stood. Being wanted was a nice feeling; one he wasn't particularly used to.

Shortly after he made it outside, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Raising an eyebrow, he dug it out of his pocket again and outwardly snorted when he saw the number attached to the message. "So _now_ you feel like talking, hm?" he muttered to himself under his breath.

"_You should move in as soon as possible. If we're going to be making a whole album, we should be more easily accessible to each other, right?"_

Sanji had a distinct feeling that the reason for wanting him to do that expanded a bit past what the man was letting on. _"I'll do it when I can, don't be so impatient."_

-oOo-

"_gp: So you're working together now? That's so cute omg"_

"_muto: I'm proud of you, dude. You've come a really long way these past couple years."_

"_tari: Aww, our baby's all grown up. Don't forget about us nameless artists, okay?"_

Sanji smiled, chin resting in his hands as he read the words over a few times. He was glad the news of his new employment had gone over well with them... not that he'd been expecting it not to. But with the inevitable rough conversation with a certain old man coming up in the near future, he appreciated the positive support. _"bl: I'm not going anywhere, my dear. ;) Just going to be a little busier. I still have to work at the restaurant too, after all."_

"_muto: You're really going to try to stick it out there..?"_

He frowned a bit at this; the doubtful response was warranted, as much as he hated to admit it. _"bl: Don't really have a choice; the old man still doesn't even know about the deal. And, besides, they'd burn to the ground without me... so, yeah. I'm gonna try. It'll be fine."_ In any other situation, it would be natural to leave your old job behind in favor of the new one. But the Baratie was different; he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. They were understaffed enough as it was. And if the restaurant failed while he was off trying to make a name for himself, where the hell would he come back to? What would be the point in chasing a dream if the end goal didn't exist anymore?

"_gp: You're totally gonna work yourself to death; you know that, right?" _

That was a morbid thought, but not one he could exactly argue against. _"bl: Like I said, I don't have a choice."_

There wasn't much response after that. He supposed there really wasn't much left to say, really. They all knew his situation at the restaurant was far from ideal; it was no secret amongst them that his vocation was on thin ice, so to speak. He was about to call it a night, but to his surprise, the private message window popped up.

"_muto: So, dude… Give it to me straight. How was it, really?"_

He stifled a laugh, bad mood dissipating as he leaned forward to type a reply. Of course Muto had seen through him; he always did.

"_bl: Oh, man, you have no idea. It was so weird… but also really cool, in a way. I wish I could explain, but I don't even know where to start... I think I'm going to really enjoy it there, though. Everyone was really nice."_

"_muto: Everyone? Even the guy from that date thing?"_

The date thing? He must have been talking about the cafe meetup. Sanji was surprised he even remembered that had happened, since the moment it had come up in conversation, he'd left the chat immediately.

"_bl: You mean Zoro? Yeah, why wouldn't he be?"_

"_muto: I don't know, I was just asking." _There was a brief pause before another line of text appeared._ "muto: Well… I'm glad."_

Glad, huh? Somehow, he doubted that. He never said he was "glad" about anything; until now, Sanji hadn't even been sure the word was in his vocabulary.

"_bl: What, you think he's going to end up being a jerk? :P" _

"_muto: Maybe."_

Sanji sighed, inwardly rolling his eyes. _"bl: You worry too much." _Not that it was anything new.

"_muto: Mm, probably."_

So, Muto knew he was being unreasonable. At least that meant they could skip the frustrating argument part of their typical serious discussion routine. _"bl: Well quit it, 'kay? I can take care of myself on my own."_

The next message came without a moment of hesitation. _"muto: Just because you can doesn't mean you have to."_

Something in his chest tightened at this. His hands hovered over the keyboard for an eternity, unsure of what he could possibly say in response to something so fucking caring. He knew the guy could be a little protective of his friends, but… something about that struck him deeply. No, he couldn't deal with this right now. _"bl: I… yeah, I guess. Sorry man, I gotta sleep. Good night." _It was a cheap evasion, but wasn't entirely a lie.

"_muto: Ah... Sure. 'Night."_

Shoving himself away from his desk, he staggered out of the room with the vague objective of brushing his teeth and getting ready for the sleep that suddenly sounded downright amazing to him; fatigue from the long day hit him like a ton of bricks all at once as he wandered down the hallway. The bathroom light burned his eyes when he flicked it on; the stark white illumination was a far cry from the comfortable darkness of his bedroom.

Reluctantly, he gave a quick glance to the mirror; he looked like shit, to put it lightly. Running a hand through his hair to brush it out of his face, he couldn't help but groan at the sight of himself. There were bags under his eyes, both of which were tinted red with exhaustion. He was pale enough as it was, but the way the white light hit his face made him look like he'd been clinically dead for days. His shoulders were tense, though he couldn't be sure if that was due to fatigue or pent-up emotion; the realization that neither of those two issues were likely to go away anytime soon sure as hell didn't sit well with him, either way.

He returned to his bedroom just in time to notice the phone on his mattress lit up with a message notification. Even from so far away, the string of numbers above the text itself was familiar. Upon that realization, his gaze unconsciously shifted to his laptop screen; no messages awaited him there, so he gave the chat window one last look over with a resigned sigh before folding the device shut.

"_By the way, the open bedroom here is mostly furnished, so don't bother bringing along whatever crappy bed you undoubtedly have."_

Was that really necessary to send in the middle of the night? He rolled his eyes and typed out a reply as he crawled under his blanket. _"My bed happens to be pretty comfortable, I'll have you know. So leave me alone to enjoy it a few more times before I move in, alright?"_

The last message came almost immediately, as if the sender had been waiting to fire off the text the moment he'd gotten Sanji's. _"Sure. Try not to dream of me too much, shit cook."_

Sanji let out a groan, shoving his face into his hands as he turned on his side. If the sudden mind numbing onslaught of butterflies in his stomach were any indication, he would probably end up doing exactly that. So the moss head was capable of flirting with some level of competence, after all.

With a salty glare, he shot off one final message; two could play at that game. _"No promises."_

* * *

><p>AN: Oh man, I meant to have this up like a week ago, oops. Well, Merry Christmas, I guess? 8D;; Ahahah well, next up is some fluff and other stuff, so look forward to it. See ya next time!


	5. Walking The Primrose Path

A/N: I HAVE NO EXCUSES

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Do you ever leave home without those swords?" Sanji gave his companion an incredulous look, eyeballing the sheathed metal at his waist that clacked together with every step they took.<p>

"Nope."

"And people don't give you shit for it," he asked with a hint of disbelief, though it came out as more of a statement than a question. Turning his attention away from the supposed swordsman for a moment, he shoved the glass door in front of them open.

Before he so much as passed through the threshold, he was bombarded with the smell of fresh produce and wet cardboard; it was a familiar scent to him, a comfortable one that brought back fond memories from years past, but the man beside him looked less than pleased with it. Or, rather, just completely perturbed in general.

Zoro raised an eyebrow in response, as if he'd never once considered that the general public might be uncomfortable with the fact that he was armed to the fucking teeth with live steel. "No, not really."

But Sanji could settle for "perturbed". Getting the grassy-headed man to come along in the first place had been a hell of an ordeal; one that had taken nearly an hour of bickering to amount to anything.

"Wouldn't it be a better use of our time to prepare more for tonight? Just get someone else to go for you," Zoro had argued, but there was no way that would have worked out. Everyone else save for Luffy and Ace were just as busy as they were; and if he'd left the shopping in their gluttonous hands, there was a zero percent chance that any of the food would have made it back to the Sunny Go.

It wasn't until Sanji had given up and went to go enlist the help of someone else that Zoro had finally, albeit begrudgingly, agreed to accompany him. The reason why he held such abhorrence toward something as basic as a goddamn grocery store was completely lost on Sanji, but he figured it didn't really matter; as long as he had someone to help carry the bags when he was done, that was good enough.

Grabbing a metal cart from the front of the store, he pulled the neatly folded piece of paper out of his pocket and skimmed over it. "So... what does everyone like to eat, anyway?"

"Whatever you put in front of them, honestly," Zoro shrugged, vacant stare fixated on something invisible on the floor. "There's a freakishly high demand for meat though, if that helps."

"I guess that's a start, then." Sanji sighed in displeasure, eyes scanning the shelves to find somewhere to start. Meat dishes, huh? He could have easily guessed that on his own, if the president's behavior at their last meal together were any indication.

They hit up the spice aisle first, tossing everything they would need into the cart; cinnamon, bay leaves, rosemary… the Sunny Go's kitchen didn't even have any salt, did it? He certainly hadn't found any before, at least. Gods, this was going to be an expensive grocery trip.

After a few minutes of browsing silence, Zoro spoke again. "...Any idea what you're going to make with this stuff?"

"Of course I know; you don't just buy things aimlessly. Food doesn't last forever." Even an infant would know something like that, right? Then again, Sanji had a sneaking suspicion that Zoro probably wasn't in the habit of buying his own groceries often. The way his eyes wandered uncomfortably as they walked hinted that he'd never even set foot in that store before.

"Yeah, no shit. I was just wondering what you have planned."

"You'll see when it's on a plate in front of you, moss head."

"Fine, whatever. Be mysterious; see if I care," he grumbled, but for the first time that day, the man cracked a smile.

The cart filled up at an alarming rate, as Sanji pulled item after item from the shelves they passed by without skipping a beat. Every single aisle they walked through had at least a handful of things he would undoubtedly need given the Sunny's currently nonexistent stock, and his wallet was preemptively in agony over the prospect of how much it was going to cost them. His job didn't pay _that_ well, for god's sake.

The fresh produce section, however, was his real destination; displays of freshly shipped fruits, vegetables, and meats spanned as far as the eye could see. This part of the errand was always his favorite; something about hand-picking the best ingredients he could find rather than grabbing a bunch of identical cardboard boxes was downright therapeutic to him.

"Mm… You know, I have a bit of a penchant for seafood dishes, so it'd be a good idea to pick up some things from over-" he paused a few feet away from the freshwater fish tank he was examining, settling back mid-step as he cut himself off. There was a kid standing alone in front of it, probably no older than ten, sporting a yellow coat that nearly reached his knees, and fluffy chestnut hair that brought Chopper to mind.

He looked lost in thought, hands fidgeting as his eyes narrowed in on something seemingly beyond the glass container in front of him.

"Uh, cook…? Something wrong?" Zoro tapped him on the back to regain his attention, standing confusedly where they'd stopped in his tracks.

"Hold on, give me a minute," Sanji muttered, giving the other man's shoulder a quick squeeze as a gesture to stay put before approaching the child's side. The boy didn't seem to notice him at first, sighing lightly through his nose as his eyes softened in contemplation. Sanji recognized that expression very, very well. "Hey kid, you planning on buying some fish, or what?"

"H-huh? Ah, well, maybe," he half-nodded and half-shrugged, giving Sanji a brief look before turning back to study the display with a troubled frown. "I want to learn to cook some... but I'm not very good yet."

"...Is that so?" the blond smiled, squatting down to get on his level. Yup, that response was precisely what he'd expected. "What's your name?"

"It's, uh, Tamachibi..." He didn't say anything more, but the look on his face as he turned back to examine Sanji again was one of bewilderment; perhaps he wasn't particularly used to being approached out of the blue by strangers.

"Well, Tamachibi," he started, glancing back up toward the display in front of them. "I would recommend starting with some salmon or shrimp. They're pretty hard to mess up, y'know what I mean?"

"Really...? Salmon sounds pretty yummy."

Sanji stifled a chuckle, unable to hold back a grin at the adorably childlike response. "Does it? Hold on a sec, I have an idea," he ripped off the blank half of his shopping list and pulled the pen out of his back pocket. Scribbling an in-depth list of ingredients and instructions, he hastily labelled the top with the title _Salmon + Beurre Blanc_, and added a less than perfect smiley face in the top right corner to make it look a tad less intimidating. "Here, try this... It's pretty basic; great for practice. Follow those directions, and I can personally guarantee that you'll make the best salmon you've ever tasted."

"The best? You think so?" He perked up a bit at this, the reluctance on his face all but disappearing as a hint of optimism lit up his eyes.

"Yeah, you bet! ...Well, assuming you've never made a visit to the Baratie on the east side of town, at least. There's really no beating that, especially for an amateur," he winked, handing over the paper and slipping the pen back into his pocket. "But, who knows, maybe with enough practice, you could get that good."

"Wow!" Tamachibi's gawked, looking over the list with a toothy smile. "Thank you very much, mister-... uhm…?"

"My name's Sanji," he reached for a sturdy handshake, then gestured back to the man that had shifted in their direction at some point. "And this unfriendly-looking guy over here is Zoro."

The kid turned his gaze up to the other man, eyes widening a bit in mild amazement as he studied his appearance quietly.

"Oh, don't mind him, he's not gonna hurt you or anything," Sanji interjected, half-assedly elbowing the man in the leg. "His face is just stuck like that." Zoro raised an eyebrow at this and gave the blond a light kick in the rib cage, nodding once at the kid as a silent 'hello'.

"Oh, no," Tamachibi shook his head quickly, a soft red tinting the tips of his ears as he shifted his gaze to the floor. "I just... er, noticed he looks a lot like the marimo in that fish tank."

Marimo… _marimo_?

Against his will, Sanji let out a boisterous laugh that echoed off of the metal rafters above, and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the noises that followed. "O-oh my god," he practically wheezed, looking up at Zoro's hair in monumental revelation. "You're totally right!"

"You've gotta be kidding me." Zoro's nose scrunched in distaste, squinting at the tank with a peeved expression.

Leaning over to take a closer look beyond the glass, Sanji couldn't help but smile; that kid was a fucking genius. "They're cuter than he is, though, don't you think?"

The kid giggled, looking back and forth between Zoro and the tank like he completely agreed, but was afraid to say so. Must have been raised well, to be so consistently polite.

"Tamachibi, who are you talking to?" A lower voice called from a few aisle ends away. Sanji's gaze shifted, and promptly fell on the figure of an older man in a purple apron, whose expression read as a tad concerned. But upon seeing the smile on the child's face, he softened, shooting Sanji a questioning but grateful look.

"Oh, that's my dad...! Gotta go!" Tamachibi stuffed the paper into his pocket and ran off in the direction of the older gentleman. "Thanks again, Sanji! See you later, marimo!"

"Marimo...? Did he forget my name already?" Zoro sneered, indignantly kicking the toe of his shoe against the floor with a few muffled taps. "What a dumb kid."

"He's not wrong, though," Sanji mused, turning around once the child was out of sight. "Really, the resemblance is uncanny. Are these ones your parents or something? Is this store where you came from?" he bowed ceremoniously to the fish tank as he stood up again, inwardly snickering under his breath. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Marimo. I'll be taking good care of your son."

"I'm going to fucking kill you in your sleep."

Sanji rolled his eyes, grabbing a few particularly nice-looking wrapped packages to toss in the cart. "Yeah? I'd like to see you try."

"You wanna?" Zoro growled in response, his voice a strange mixture of sultry and agitated. "That can be arranged."

"Let's not do this right now, okay?" He huffed, taking another glance at the remaining half of his paper. "This stuff needs to be kept cold, so we don't have any time to waste... This will go a lot faster if we split up. Here, take the list with you; I memorized it already. Just find everything on the bottom part of the paper and meet me back at the front register, okay?"

There was a long pause as his brow furrowed and his eyes scanned the list.

"I don't… think I know where any of these things are," he finally said, peering back up from the paper with a frown.

"You don't need to; just read the signs over each aisle, idiot. It literally says exactly where everything is."

"...Fine, whatever."

xxx

A few minutes passed, then ten, then twenty; and somehow, Zoro was nowhere to be found. Fucking unbelievable. Maybe he'd fallen asleep somewhere along the way?

With an exasperated sigh, Sanji pulled his phone out of his pocket. _"Where are you?_"

The reply came with little delay. "_In the section with the freezers, I think. It's cold._"

The frozen food section? What was he doing all the way over there? And what the fuck was "I think" supposed to mean? Sanji let out something between a sigh and a groan, rubbing his temple to ward off an oncoming headache. "_That's the opposite side of the store you moron; I didn't even ask you to get anything from there! What the hell?_"

For fuck's sake, he didn't have time for this. Leaving the cart behind in his haste and muttering a few choice explicatives under his breath, he made a beeline for the other side of the store. But upon reaching said section, he couldn't find a trace of the man anywhere.

In fact, there wasn't a single damn person over there at all; the back corner of the store was completely devoid of life, save for a dry, melancholy potted dracaena sitting up against the wall.

"...You haven't seen a guy walk by here with a head sorta like yours, have you?" He asked the plant, idly nudging the pot with the toe of his shoe. No response, obviously. With a deep sigh, he took another glance around the area.

Perhaps he'd wandered off somewhere already? Or maybe he'd somehow been mistaken about where he was? Surely even Zoro couldn't be _that_ stupid, but Sanji was admittedly reluctant to put it past him.

Just as he spun on his heels to head back in the direction he'd came, there was a grip on his wrist of a hand the same size as his own. Without even looking, he could tell who it belonged to; the long, calloused fingers were ones he'd grown used to very quickly.

It occurred to him, feeling the sudden caress against his palm, that maybe the man hadn't been as lost as he was letting on; that perhaps Zoro had been hiding back there on purpose. Had he lured Sanji there to fulfill some sort of weird grocery store fantasy? Leave it to the moss head to turn a simple shopping trip into a scandal.

But upon examining his face, the relieved and mildly discomforted look he was met with hinted otherwise. Zoro's shoulders were hunched with tension, and the hood of his jacket had, at some point, made its way up over his head to cast a shadow on his disgruntled face. Sanji absolutely hated that his first instinct was to brush the fabric back down and kiss the fuck out of Zoro's creased forehead until he didn't look so perturbed anymore; and he hated even more that he didn't act on the temptation.

But for the first time all day, he had a moment to really take a good look the other man; seeing Zoro in such a mundane environment was incredibly strange, all things considered. There was no blue lighting to offset his tanned tone, no ambient bass to block out the sound of him subconsciously scuffing his shoes against the floor, nor was there any alcohol clouding Sanji's perception of him in the slightest. It wasn't that he looked less cool, but rather completely and utterly out of his element. Infatuating was one word for it.

"You took too long," Zoro grumbled, not meeting Sanji's eyes in favor of staring down a display of ice cream that the blond had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't actually focusing on.

"_I'm_ the one that took too long? You left me standing at the front like an idiot for almost half an hour, you shitty bastard." He gave the man's shoulder a playful shove; but rather than pulling back immediately, his fingers subconsciously curled into the fabric of Zoro's jacket. "...I was almost worried for a second."

"Well, I got the stuff you wanted. Maybe. I dunno, I've never even heard of half of this shit before."

"No, this is good. Nice work, marimo," he grinned, looking over the items he'd gathered with a sagacious nod. "Good to see your evidently terrible sense of direction didn't render you completely useless. But next time, tell me sooner when you get lost."

"I was _not_ lost!" The hand gripping Sanji's wrist tightened in concurrence with the embarrassed scowl that took over his face.

"Bullshit you weren't. It's okay, though; everyone has their weak points," he explained with a hint of smugness. "Yours just happen to be completely ridiculous and really inconvenient."

"I don't want to hear that from a guy who talks to plants..."

Sanji snorted, shooting the other man a dirty look through his bangs. "Those are awfully big words coming from a living human-plant mutant. Seriously, though, how did you even get over here?"

"It's not my fault; the front moved. It was over here." His voice was firm, but his shifty eyes betrayed him. The hand holding Sanji's wrist shifted to intertwine their fingers, and Sanji realized that the other man's hands were sweating a bit. His heart softened, and he tugged the hand latched onto his back in the direction of the front of the store.

"Okay, geez, it's fine; forget it... Let's just get out of here. I'm gonna have an aneurysm if we don't get our stuff into a refrigerator soon."

Zoro said nothing, offering up a grunt in affirmation as he trailed slightly behind him.

xxx

When they finally made it back to the front, however, Zoro stopped dead in his tracks. "Damn it… Fucking figures."

"Hm? Something the matter?"

"...The cashier."

The figure behind the counter was staring at them with a sly expression, a single finger twisting and twirling through thick, tourmaline curls. Her dramatic makeup and hairstyle made her stand out like a sore thumb in the drab atmosphere of the store, but not at all in a bad way. In fact, her haughty, princess-like appearance almost seemed to breathe life into the environment around her... Though, "life" might not have been quite the right word.

"Oooh, Zoro, fancy seeing you here for once," the girl started as they approached. "Nice boyfriend you got there. Was wondering when you'd finally snag yourself a cutie like him."

"He's… not my boyfriend," he managed to get out with some strain, grabbing a stack of food and dropping it on the counter without so much as an ounce of enthusiasm. "Just shut up and bag our shit."

"Sure, sure," she nodded, dropping a few groceries into a bag without taking her eyes off of him. "...God, this is so domestic for you. Must be in it really deep, huh?"

"Seriously. Cram it."

Raising an eyebrow, Sanji kept quiet as he helped unload the cart of their purchases. Those two obviously knew each other, but he had no idea in what capacity. Perhaps they'd gone to school together or something? Or, maybe they had mutual friends? Given the malicious edge to their exchange, it seemed unlikely that they were only just acquaintances.

_Oh..._ Sanji swallowed, throat tightening as he glanced between the two of them. What if they'd been lovers? Or, god forbid, still were? No, that couldn't be right; she wouldn't have been so quick to tease Zoro about the two of them being together had that been the case. He seemed irrationally uncomfortable talking to her, which probably meant they'd at the very least been through some sort of rough disagreement or something in the past. But really, he had no way of knowing for sure.

"Okay, calm down," she muttered with a borderline taunting pout, throwing more of their stuff into bags. "...Gosh, wait 'til dad hears about this."

_Dad? _He turned to Zoro with a quizzical look, studying his face for any sort of reaction; but his expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Don't bother him with weird shit like that. I mean it."

She let out a light hum in response, seeming to mull the demand over for a moment. "Wanna break the news to him yourself, then? I guess I can understand that."

With a heavy sigh, Zoro turned his gaze to the front windows, apparently giving up on the conversation. There was a brief pause, filled only with periodic beeps from the register, before she spoke up again.

"But even if I don't mention it, he's totally going to find out soon anyway. This little cutie right here is a pretty hot topic right now... It's only a matter of time before the press gets involved. But you already know that, right?"

"You know about me?" Sanji finally chimed in, trying his damnedest to keep the flattery and slight discomfort from showing on his face.

"Oh, sweetie, I know everything about you. We-"

"Perona!" Zoro growled, fingers shifting with a twitch toward the black hilt at his waist, before retracting to frustratedly run the hand through his hair. "...You might want to rethink where you're taking this conversation."

"I was _just_ going to say," she started again, shooting him a dirty look. "That word's getting around about you pretty quickly, Blackleg. People have been talking about that fight you two got into last week at the club, too… some people thought you were going to rip each other's throats out, apparently. And with that event going on tonight, god, nobody's talking about anything else!"

Sanji swallowed thickly, eyes flickering back again to Zoro at the mention of their "fight" from the week prior. But the other man didn't so much as blink in response, grabbing a few of the filled bags in silence.

He highly doubted that many people gave a shit about their stupid little squabble by the stairs, but the fact that Perona knew about it at all was self-evident; she must have been very well informed to know about something as infinitesimal as that. "So… I take it you're into the music scene, too?"

"Hm? Well, sort of, I guess. Just as an on-the-side thing," she shrugged, loading up the last of their groceries and tapping a few buttons on the register. "I'm more into the gossip, y'know? Lucky for me, it looks like there's gonna be a lot more of that, soon…"

Well, he couldn't argue with that. If the past few weeks were any indication of how his life was going to continue progressing, he didn't doubt it for a second.

Sanji made a move to pull his wallet out of his pocket, but his hand was caught in a sudden vice grip as Zoro shook his head and procured his own. "No, I'll pay; since you'll be going through the trouble of cooking it and all."

"Wow, what a gentleman. How sweet." Perona's deadpan tone was practically dripping with sarcasm. "You're _really_ not helping your case much, you know."

"Well fucking excuse me for trying to be fair," Zoro snarled, dropping his credit card in her hand with a glare.

"Zoro, quit being such a dick; that's no way to talk to a lady," Sanji interjected, giving his companion a swift kick to the shin. He steadied himself, expecting a jab or something in return, but to his surprise the man's tension seemed to dissolve a bit, and he settled back on his heels with a curt noise.

"Oh, thank god you can keep him in line," she sighed in relief. "Believe me, that's a rare but necessary trait."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see that..." Sanji laughed quietly, grabbing as many bags as he could muster.

"We're all set now, right?" Zoro cut in, still visibly none too pleased with their current situation in the slightest. "We can go?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," she nodded, passing him the card and receipt in her hand. "Thank you for your patronage, _sir_."

"You're very _welcome_," Zoro grumbled, shoving his card back into his wallet as he grabbed Sanji's arm with his free hand and promptly made his way for the exit.

"See ya later, blondie!" she called after them. "Come along with Zoro next time he visits home, okay?"

Outside the storefront, Zoro slowed his speed-walk to a comfortable stroll as soon as the door closed behind them. The sigh he let out was a tad overstated, but the tenseness in his shoulders seemed to dissipate completely as the air left his lungs. "...Well, now you know why I didn't want to go there."

"Perona's your sister, I take it?" Sanji asked, partially relieved by the revelation, and partially impressed that any one person could get under the man's skin so much; she made it look so easy. Internally, he wondered to himself if he should have been taking notes or something.

"I guess she's... pretty much like that, yeah. Might as well be related by blood, for all the trouble she is."

Zoro did sort of seem like the older brother type, now that he thought about it; he was quick to frustrate, seemed to have a bit of a power complex, but was decidedly pretty reliable. He presented himself like the kind of guy who was all too used to having to look out for other people; to a fault, almost. Just another side of him that was irritatingly admirable.

"Just so you know, I'm never going back in there."

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

xxx

Sanji had expected a relatively small turnout for that friday; but their event, which the boss had excitedly dubbed "New Guy Initiation and Super Cool Tag Team Night Thing", had apparently been extremely well received by the local public for whatever reason. That sort of gimmick, as it turned out, was something their club was growing particularly famous for.

Trying to take even a single step anywhere in the main room was a laughable endeavor; Ace had been insistent that they weren't breaking any fire codes, but Sanji didn't believe that for a single fucking second. He had to unbutton his shirt a bit to even attempt to breathe, and even then all he managed to catch was a stuffy haze of body heat.

"Holy shit, I didn't know this city even had this many people," Sanji groaned half in awe and half in frustration, pressing his back up against the wall as closely as he could manage in order to take a deep inhale.

"It doesn't," Zoro replied, idly waving his hand in front of Sanji as a makeshift fan to cool him off. "There are some press guys from out of town over by the stairs. I doubt they're the only ones not from here."

"People actually travel for this kind of thing?" Shit, either people were starved for entertainment those days, or Sanji had gotten himself wrapped up in a much bigger association than he'd initially thought.

"Yeah. You'll get used to it."

Luckily for them, at least, they weren't the first ones up that evening. Nami had requested rather forcefully to start the night off, citing something about a hosting a drinking contest later or something akin to that; Sanji hadn't quite caught some of the words she'd thrown around. It sounded rather important, though, so he didn't question it.

Almost immediately, Usopp had opted to join her in the first set, claiming that it would make it easier for him to work the lights for the rest of the night if he got his turn out of the way first. Sanji had certainly understood that reasoning; jumping back and forth between different tasks all night was hardly enjoyable, after all.

And as it turned out, they were an impeccable combination; their sounds blended so well together that Sanji had a hard time parsing where his songs ended and hers began; it was like a smooth, steady stream of liquid trance, bending and winding with no change in current. They were very obviously damn well-practiced.

He was almost sort of envious of how well they worked together, as much as he was reluctant to admit it. Would he and Zoro ever be that fully in sync with each other? Surely that sort of skill took a hell of a lot of time and practice to accomplish, but the prospect of being able to function without so much as a moment of eye contact was downright enthralling. He wanted to be that good; so much that it made his skin crawl with anticipation.

"You gonna be alright, curly?"

"Huh? Yeah…" Sanji blinked, turning his attention to the man next to him. "They're just really good. I sort of got caught up in it, for a minute."

"Heh, yeah, I know the feeling."

Unlike before, absorbing Nami's vocals this time around did wonders for his pre-show jitters. Having her play before him had been frustratingly intimidating before, but now it was more of a relief than anything. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they weren't strangers anymore, but watching her and Usopp on stage did nothing but invigorate him. Was this what camaraderie was supposed to feel like? Excited, challenged, and even a little proud... It was a fucking awesome feeling.

And when it was finally their turn to take over, that feeling didn't waver in the slightest. The crowd below them was larger than he could have ever possibly anticipated, louder than he could have ever imagined, but he wasn't daunted in the slightest; how could he be, with that mob of familiar, excited faces watching him from the bar with such eager expressions? And Zoro… that guy was so close by his side that their arms brushed with every superficial movement. They were together on this, and he was more than ready for it.

But, shit, if watching Zoro from afar the week prior could have been called an enticing experience, then he had no idea what words he could possibly use to describe what seeing the man function up close did to him. It was like watching a god at work; like their stage was the garden of the Hesperides, and simply being there with Zoro would grant him immortality in the form of brilliant euphony. Every time their fingers drifted too close, it took everything he had to keep his hands to himself. His heart was practically clawing to escape his chest, Zoro's gravitational pull on it so intense that it would have sooner torn itself clear from his body than settled.

To his surprise, Zoro leaned in front of him to open a blank text document on his laptop. _"Keep your attention on the work," _he typed, casting a sly look in Sanji's direction._ "You can stare at me later all you want."_

Biting his lip, Sanji feigned annoyance and swatted the man's hands away from his keyboard; but he kept the text document open, just in case he needed to say something later.

In order to fill their time slot with fresh content, Sanji had to delve deep into the depths of his hard drive to pull up compositions from years past. Having Zoro focused so intensely on his earlier work was a tad on the embarrassing side, but Sanji found it was more stirring than anything else; he'd always been the self-deprecating sort of artist, especially back when he was still beginning. But every time the songs came to a point that he'd remembered being particularly displeased with, Zoro shot him a reassuring grin. Every single goddamn time, without fail. It could have just been a coincidence, but Sanji was rapidly becoming less and less convinced that the man wasn't a fucking mind reader; he wasn't sure whether the prospect was more unsettling or comforting.

But their set wasn't comprised entirely his own work. The second half was dominated by Zoro's; a comfortable mixture of tracks that their audience was familiar with. One of which was what the man cited as his most popular, which just so happened to be the same one that they'd improvised during their first session together. Hearing it for the first time in weeks brought back vivid memories that Sanji was certain weren't helping his ability to perform properly in the slightest. He could hear remnant echos of his own vocals mixing with Zoro's as it reverberated off of the walls of the recording room. He could hear the erotic harmony of their voices that had followed hours after that, equally as heated and passionate but in a completely different way.

Well, maybe not all that different.

Again, Zoro leaned over to the laptop. _"You know this part,_" he typed, pointing to Sanji's mic as he cancelled the vocal track queue. "_Wanna give it a shot?"_

Hell yes, he did. Better to try it immediately rather than later, when his nerves had a chance to come around and remind him what performance anxiety was supposed to feel like. He nodded in response, steeling himself as he watched the pixelated piano roll slide through the composition measure by measure. Three.. Two… One.

Ah, so that was why Nami insisted on singing live. His lungs were on fire the moment the air left them, not out of overexertion but purely from exhilaration; it was completely electrifying, filling the club's vibrating current with Zoro's well-designed refrain by the power of his own vocal cords. The reverb in the room was so perfectly contrived that he could hear his tone echoed back a fraction of a second after it came to fruition. Self-deprecating or not, he couldn't deny how good it sounded.

If the floor's response to his secret accompaniment in _Ero-Cook_ the week before had been impressive, their response to his impromptu cut-in then was utterly earth-shattering.

_"Holy fuck_," Sanji's fingers rattled off as he stared at the moss head with a single wide eye. _"That felt so good; what the hell?"_

_"Yeah, holy fuck is right," _he responded, mirroring the blond's expression._ "I knew you were loud, but that was something else. Nice going."_

There was no time to sit around and bask in the feeling; taking in a deep breath to steady his beating heart, he turned his attention back to their controllers. The last song, they'd previously decided, would be the same as Zoro's last performance. Sanji had long since gotten over his unnecessary resentment toward the track, and had embraced it as the work of musical genius that it was. There, he admitted it. It was damn good, and he knew it.

He couldn't help but laugh a bit, knowing what was coming as the first verse built heavier and heavier. But, somehow, it didn't bother him in the slightest. Another effect of his newfound complacency, he figured.

"_Fuck, h-harder…"_ Yup, there it was. Rather than griping over it, he found himself mildly impressed the second time around. Assuming the recording's flow was left intact, he had to commend his past self on maintaining such a perfect rhythmic cadence, even when being thoroughly fucked within an inch of his life.

"_AAH, ZOROOO!" _Even though they'd only heard it once before, the crowd yelled the ridiculous line back with excited vigor.

And as the drop hit its stride, Zoro's fingers lifted from the controller and curled roughly into his shirt. He jerked Sanji forward by his collar with perfect dexterity into a fierce kiss, the hard plastic of their headphones colliding together with a loud clack on impact. There was a tongue in his mouth, shit, he had to latch onto Zoro's chest to keep himself upright. But it was over as soon as it had begun, leaving Sanji in a daze; their eyes hung on each other's for a moment or two longer, before they simultaneously went back to work.

What the hell was that, public territory claiming? There were flashes, so many flashes; he would have assumed it was coming from a strobe light if they hadn't occurred at such unsteady intervals.

Cameras. Well, if he'd doubted Perona's insight before, he sure as hell didn't now.

"_Sorry, you looked like you wanted that… was it bad?" _Zoro asked, though his expression suspiciously lacked any trace of remorse for his actions. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"_No,"_ Sanji replied immediately, but then promptly backspaced as his brain caught up with him. _"Wait, I mean yes! Would it kill you for once in your life to warn me before you do something crazy?!"_

The other man let out a laugh at this, though Sanji couldn't hear it at all over the sound blasting directly into his ears.

"_Got it. In that case, I'll warn you about this last thing; leave your equipment as it is and get ready to run at the end of this track, alright?"_

"_Run? Why?"_

"_Just be ready, okay? If anyone tries to stop us, ignore them."_

As it turned out, the warning had been absolutely imperative to their escape; the moment the track was over, perhaps even a moment too early, Luffy and Chopper bolted onto the stage, ready to pick up the slack. Sanji was about two seconds away from being tackled where he stood; but there was a hand on his, jerking him straight toward the staircase and into the crowd before he had the chance to so much as blink.

"What are they doing? And what exactly are we running from?" he called over the sudden shift to new music, tugging his headphones off of his ears and down around his neck as they went.

"They're giving us a quick getaway; do you really want to spend the rest of the night answering bullshit questions from people you don't even know, or do you want to go have a good time?"

The query, obviously, needed no response. So he let Zoro lead him, watching in mild amusement as the man swiftly wormed his way past drunkard after drunkard in the blue-illuminated darkness. And for a moment, he allowed himself to relax long enough to listen to Chopper and Luffy's music; but the second his mind registered it, his jaw dropped.

"Wait wait, hold on! What is this?" Sanji tugged back on his hand excitedly, heart beating a mile a minute as the speakers blasted a familiar melody that dug up a feelings of happiness from eons past inside him. That music; he _knew_ that music. Way, way too well, in fact.

"Isn't it obvious? They're live remixing one of your old songs... _C'est Fait, _I think it's called, right? I was gonna tell you about it earlier, but Luffy wanted it to be a surprise," he laughed over his shoulder as they wormed their way through the last of the crowd. "You're not going to chew him out for it, are you?"

"Hell no, this is awesome! Holy shit, dude, I wrote this song back in freshman year of high school… How the fuck did he even find it?"

"Don't ask questions," Zoro shook his head with an exhausted, knowing smirk. "It's not worth picking shit apart, trust me."

The back corner by the bar, apparently, was some sort of unspoken sanctuary from reporters. Either that, or the press simply couldn't manage to infiltrate the overly dense, packed-in crowd of inebriated patrons surrounding them on all sides. Regardless, the plan was a success.

"You guys, that was absolutely amazing!" Nami was all smiles, dragging Sanji up to sit next to her on top of the counter. "Forget that 'not working well together' crap, I take it all back!"

"It was all this guy," Zoro shrugged, putting a hand on Sanji's knee as he stood next to them. "He's a natural."

"I know a stage kiss when I see one," Brook appeared behind them, nonchalantly dropping a tray of a dozen full shot glasses on the counter. "And that one most certainly was not. Anything you two want to confess?"

"What the hell are these?" Sanji asked, pointedly avoiding the older man's question for all he was worth.

"These," he started, with an overly extravagant gesture to the glasses. "Are the drinks people came back here to buy for you two. Well, some of them. There were a ton more, but… let's at least try to be a little responsible, here, shall we?"

"Awesome! Cheers!" Nami lifted a glass up to the air, then downed the liquid and dropped it on the countertop without so much as a flinch. "Alright, I think it's time for another drinking contest!"

"Another one?" Brook raised an eyebrow. "Your last one was only twenty minutes ago."

"Aah, it's fine, I'm okay for it," she giggled, idly swinging her feet that didn't nearly reach the floor from their elevated seat. "That last guy was a total wimp."

"Drink the new guy under the table!" Some raspy voice Sanji didn't recognize called from a few feet away. He looked over the crowd of people to see if he could match a face to the voice, but he couldn't see a damn thing.

"Sanji, hm?" she turned her attention back to him, and he could have sworn he saw an evil glint in her eye. "Okay then, let's make it a bet. If I win, you have to give me ten percent of your pay from tonight."

Shit, he knew he was lightweight, but… Nami was a woman, and a delicate, slender one at that. There was no way her tolerance was all that high, right? "Sure, alright. Let's do it. If I win, you have to allow me to take over your office duties for a day."

"How exactly is that supposed to be a penalty?" Zoro cut in flatly, apparently unamused as he grabbed one from the tray for himself.

"Okay, deal! First one to give up loses, got it?"

"Got it." To match the one she'd already consumed, he snagged a shot from the table and downed it without hesitation.

A stranger handed him a glass with a darker liquid in it; and without much thought, he poured it down his throat. Like it was conjured up from thin air, another was shoved into his hands from somewhere... and down the hatch it went. What had that glass even had in it? He hadn't even bothered to look before throwing it back. Before he even had the chance to mull the taste over, he'd been handed two more. One down, then the other. He coughed a bit at the burning sensation, but smiled as the heat settled in his chest. Whatever those people were handing him, it was sure as hell getting the job done.

But Nami was keeping up with him like it was her fucking job; with a cat-like grin, she dropped another empty glass into her freshly-made stack on the counter. Sanji had no choice but to reach for another.

"I'm not gonna tell you to slow down," Zoro started, casually throwing back a shot of his own. "But you might wanna keep an eye on yourself, there."

"I'm fine," Sanji retorted, mind reeling a bit as he shook his head and thought he felt the counter shift under him ever so slightly. "I'm no fucking quitter."

"Oh _really_? In that case..." he practically whispered, barely audible over the music as he took a step toward him and brought the glass in his hand to Sanji's lips. "Drink up."

There was a firm hand on the small of his back, sliding him forward on the counter so he was straddling Zoro's chest. He had to lean over a bit to keep the liquid from spilling as he took it into his mouth, eyes locking with Zoro's as the man slowly tipped the glass up, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace. Just as he swallowed, the hand on his back slipped down to tug at his hip, successfully pulling a startled moan from his burning lips. Before he could get ahold of himself, his legs reflexively wrapped around the man situated in front of him and pulled him in closer.

"Dude, that's hot!" Another voice that he didn't recognize; not that he didn't agree with the faceless stranger.

"You finished now?" Zoro asked, fingers tentatively drifting back to trace down his spine.

If Zoro was planning on giving him more like that, then there was no way in hell he was done. "No, I think I'll take another."

xxx

Feet skidded violently against ceramic tile for leverage as his stomach wrenched. Again.

The fingers holding his blond locks back rubbed soothingly into his scalp, careful not to let any strands fall back onto his face. "How is there still anything left in you..?" The question came out with a hint of a laugh, warmly hazed over by the man's lingering inebriation. "I've never once in my life actually seen anyone get this fucked up."

His guts churned more, but nothing came up. He reached with a shaky hand to flush the toilet for the third time, only missing his mark once before his fingers successfully clasped onto the cold metal.

"If your constitution were any weaker, you'd probably be dead right now."

"Sh-shut up," Sanji spat, quite literally, before settling back on his knees with a heavy sigh of relief. "Ugh, I think it's over now, at least."

"You said that twenty minutes ago," Zoro raised an eyebrow, head lolling back nonchalantly against the cabinet under the sink behind him with a soft thud. His eyes were calm, darkened with an inviting mixture of intoxication and exhaustion. "So, somehow, I sort of doubt it."

"Don't believe me, then, I don't care. But I mean it this time." The tiled flooring was freezing underneath his bare hands, but it felt nice. He let out a heavy sigh, half-heartedly nudging his head up into Zoro's hand to get him to let go of his hair. The other man gave him a sideways glance, before sitting up suddenly with a more attentive expression.

"Woah, wait a minute. Look at me," Zoro started, hands shifting slightly in his hair as he forced Sanji's head to turn in his direction.

"What?" Their eyes met, but Zoro wasn't looking deeply into his; rather, he was looking deeply at everything, taking in every inch of his face in fascination. The man's thumb dipped down to graze across the bare skin of his forehead, and Sanji flinched reflexively under his heavy grip. "The hell's gotten into you, now, marimo…?"

"Your eyes… Incredible," the other man muttered under his breath, brows furrowing the way you'd expect a spectator at an art gallery to examine a famous painting or something. Sanji's heart nearly exploded in his chest at that expression. "I didn't think you could possibly look any weirder, but you totally do."

"Oh, fuck off," he swatted the man's hands away and shook his head twice to shift his bangs back into place over one eye. "You're a fucking callous bastard, you know that?"

"Come on... I was kidding, sort of," When Sanji didn't respond, he moved closer to run a reassuring hand along his thigh. "You vomit like a fucking champ, though... Really impressive stuff."

"Yeah, whatever."

There was a short silence, and Zoro let out a quiet sigh before letting his head lean lazily against the side of Sanji's. "...So are you really feeling better, now?"

He nodded, looking up to the bathroom ceiling as the world around him ceased spinning for the first time in hours. "Better" was certainly a word for it, though he wasn't entirely sure he had enough of a grip on himself to really make an accurate assessment of how he was actually doing. "I'm probably good now, yeah."

He really hadn't needed the assistance, having suffered mild alcohol poisoning plenty of times on his own. But Zoro, protective bastard that he was proving to be, had stayed with him the whole time. Even though their event was still going strong on the floor above them, he'd opted to stay by Sanji's side without question.

"Maybe you should just stay here tonight," _So I can keep an eye on your sorry ass,_ his expression seemed to add. But Sanji was in no need of a fucking babysitter, thank you very much.

"No, I wouldn't trust myself to get up in time for work if I weren't literally in the building I have to work at."

"Set an alarm on your phone, then," Zoro insisted, wrapping a single arm around his waist from the side. "I just want to make sure you're okay later. That's all."

"Sorry, but I'm not budging on this one." Considering he was supposed to get up seven hours from then, it would be difficult enough to drag himself out of bed just to go downstairs, let alone to walk a couple miles across town.

The other man snorted at that, leaning back with his arms behind his head. "Fine, then at least let me walk you home."

xxx

Their buzzed, barely coherent but still talkative conversation continued as they walked through the night, passing storefront after storefront as the streetlamps flickered overhead. The sidewalks were completely vacant aside for them, silent to the point that their voices echoed off of the walls around them regardless of volume.

"Don't feel too bad about it, you never had a chance against her."

"Sure I did, I just let her win. Like a _real_ gentleman," Sanji grumbled, jumping up to balance on top of a thin, raised platform on the side of the street as they walked. "Wait… But if you knew that, why didn't you tell me so earlier?"

"I thought it'd be funny to see you plastered?" he responded in his best Sanji impression, mirroring the face the blond had made when giving the same response on the recording room couch a handful of weeks ago.

"Oh, fuck you!"

"Y'know, honestly, I doubt too many of the other guys are doing so well right now either..." Zoro mused, pulling his phone out of his pocket to examine with his free hand.

"Yeah… I bet that damn bathroom is going to be packed later. Good thing we got in there early, huh?"

"Heh, yeah, I guess you're right..." The hand holding his tightened suddenly as Sanji accidentally swayed a little bit too far to the side. "Hey, don't fall down."

"Shut up, I wasn't going to." Hand-holding; thinking back, Sanji couldn't help but notice that they'd been doing a lot of that, lately. At the store, in the club, and then on the walk home; almost all the time they'd spent together that day was accompanied by that intimate contact. He wanted to mention it, to bring it to Zoro's attention, but warily decided against it; he didn't want to risk the chance of the man getting embarrassed and opting to keep his hands to himself. But, even so… it was terribly difficult not to think about.

Upon finally finding their way back to the Baratie, conversation came to a sudden halt; the other man stood quietly, taking in the sight of the restaurant with a neutral expression. Not one of awe, or mischievous amusement, but rather a distant thoughtfulness. It was a true neutral expression for Zoro, one Sanji could recall seeing plenty of times before, but something about it struck him as different. Perhaps it was the way his eyes seemed to focus intently on the sign above the door, rather than zoning out into nothingness like he usually did. Or it might have had something to do with the way the hand wrapped around his loosened a bit the longer he looked at it.

"Is something wrong?" Sanji asked, leaning into the man's line of sight with a puzzled look. "Your brain overheating?"

"Nah, I'm just…" he paused, taking a deep breath through his nose that created a fog on the exhale. "Nothing, never mind."

Nothing? What a shitty response; that expression was clearly far from "nothing". "Aw, come on, you can tell me anything."

The man visibly tensed at this, if only for a split second, before he shrugged it off with a grin and retracted his hand completely. "I'm just happy, that's all. Get off my case already, would you?"

"Ah, I see," Sanji started with a contemplative nod. "That must be rare for you; I understand if you need a moment to process the feeling."

"Wow, and you called _me _a callous bastard?" Zoro groaned in mock chagrin, hands gripping at Sanji's biceps to pull him into a tight hug; one that turned amorous quickly, as he wasted no time placing a few slightly messy, inebriated kisses on the exposed skin above his scarf.

"Yes, and I stand by the statement," Sanji responded, melting slightly into the candid embrace as his fingers made their way up to Zoro's short, messy hair without thought. So, the marimo was a clingy drunk... He duly stored that information in his mind for later use.

Fingers curled tighter into his clothes, and Zoro let out a short sigh against his skin. "You're even more amazing than I thought you'd be... Pisses me the hell off."

"What's that supposed-"

"Just shut up and let me hold you."

Sanji swallowed his words, slightly taken aback by the sudden strong yet shaky demand. They stood like that, practically cuddling in front of the door to the restaurant, for what felt like ages. But it was damn cold outside in the middle of the night, and not even Zoro's inhuman warmth up against him was enough to ward of the shivers that eventually caught up to Sanji. With an almost inaudible sigh and a genuinely contented expression, Zoro pulled away first. "...Alright. Get inside, already. I'll see you tomorrow, curly."

"Oh, what, you're not even going to kiss me goodnight?"

"Unless you've got some mouthwash on you to get rid of that stomach acid, I'm gonna have to pass on getting all up in your mouth, thanks," Zoro smirked, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets has he stumbled off of the front steps.

Sanji felt a slight pang of regret, as he watched the man leave. The wasted offer of spending the whole night with those arms around him… it sounded like the most amazing thing in the world to him, at that moment. But, with work the next day hanging over his head, he never would have been able to fully enjoy it. No, leaving the experience for another night was the right choice, as much as the absence of the other man's warmth was already driving him crazy.

"By the way," Zoro turned around mid-step, continuing to walk as he spoke. "Make sure you sleep on your side, alright? If you suffocate to death on your own vomit the middle of the night, I'll kill you."

Sanji rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorway with a sneer. "Right. I'm pretty sure it's already passed, but thanks for the tip. Asshole."

Arms folded over his chest, Sanji kept watching while Zoro made his way down the street; however, it wasn't until he'd disappeared completely from view that Sanji realized the man had left in the wrong direction.

* * *

><p>AN: Remember kids, don't drink too much at once. ._.; Vomiting that much booze out of your system is not fun at all, no matter how amazing food tastes afterward. Drink responsibly!

Also, I went back and rewrote some of chapters 1-4. Idk, some of the wording was bothering me I guess? Nothing actually changed, just some phrasing. But feel free to give it a re-read if you want to.

See ya next time!


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